


Perpetual Motion

by Phasingphoenix



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2019-09-18 08:26:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 59,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16991475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phasingphoenix/pseuds/Phasingphoenix
Summary: Vax loves deeply, and often hides how much he needs it reciprocated. After Keyleth's soft rejection of his advances, he goes looking for alternative outlets. Vex has no difficulty at all getting what she wants, even when it's a little unexpected.(Important note: I'm only partway through the series right now, some information may not be present)





	1. Chapter 1

In places like Emon, or Whitestone, or any other place unfortunate enough to see disaster and fortunate enough to see the other side of it, Vox Machina is considered a unit. One hale and whole team that operates more like a family than a squadron. They don’t separate unless absolutely necessary, and while their battlefield organization leaves something to be desired, every member of the party will leave an encounter alive, because they will accept no less. 

Truly, their cohesiveness makes them formidable enemies, for a wall formed by courage, determination, and love is stronger than almost any weapon.

But off the battlefield? Away from the clients asking for help and the public appearances, in the privacy of home and aloneness, one of the only two members of the team that can claim actual family ties to anyone chooses to walk alone. 

Or sit alone, on the roof of Grayskull Keep, making the guards alter their route because they know he means to be alone and is an equally capable watchman. Vax’ildan sits under a blanket of stars with one leg folded beneath him, the other hanging off the wall as he simply looks out over their domain. It’s quiet here, the kind of quiet he so desperately needs. 

He often thinks that’s how he became a rogue of his caliber. He subsists on quiet, and loneliness. He doesn’t need a lot of people, nor does he particularly want them, in most cases. Fewer distractions leave him with a better idea of his surroundings, and therefore better control. And after everything they’ve been through, all the times things have spun wildly out of their control, he needs the quiet to process all of it so he doesn’t simply feel like a dagger ricocheting off a wall. 

A lot happened recently that he needs to deal with. Three major things: Percy, Vex, and Keyleth. He pushes Keyleth away for now, not having the emotional stomach for it yet, and focuses on Vex first. Always Vex first.

He wouldn’t have chosen a life of danger for her, of course, but since that’s out of his hands, he’s happy that she chose to be a ranger. For nearly every fight, she’s set back from the action, and even in the fight with that damned Beholder, she managed to stay rather hale by remaining on the roof, out of reach. 

But she didn’t do that this time. She pulled a Vax and took the first opportunity she saw. It had nearly killed her. 

He takes a breath of cold air, allowing it to sting his lungs and burn his nose. The feeling of dragging her limp body away because none of the magic was  _ working _ is never going to leave his limbs. He’s powerless to aid the injured on a good day, but being unable to even carry her to safety? Or administer a potion?

He needs to do better. How, he doesn’t know, maybe by keeping a closer eye on her, maybe by killing anything threatening before it even has a chance to get close. He loves the people in his party (mostly) whether they believe it or not, but Vex being torn from him would shatter whatever shred of good is left in him. Vax’ildan would be… different. Changed. A thing he doesn’t like to think about, much less wants to be.

A closer eye. A quicker dagger. She’s too important to leave unprotected.

Right. Processed, filed, moving on.

Keyleth.

….

No. He still doesn’t want to think about it. It causes a turning in his gut different from the brotherly fear he carries for his sister, different from anything else he’s ever felt, really. He knows it’s not easy to love him, knows he has a penchant for danger like no other and that makes him a hazard. But of all the people Vax had expressed affection for, Keyleth had been the one least receptive to it. After nearly dying on a few occasions, he decided it was worse to have it go ignored and her never knowing how dear she is to his heart. 

And he upset her. Normally, if people don’t want his advances, they simply say so, whether it be nicely or less so. But her response had been as confusing as it was confused, and he wasn’t sure what to take away from it. He’d been simple in his approach, if rather forward and perhaps intense, but he’d given her clear parameters for what he was asking. Her rather conditional rejection in response had left him uncertain as to where he actually stood with her, and rather than deal with any of it, he left it up to her to figure out.

But he doesn’t want to talk to her, even if she does.

He doesn’t want to hear that unconditional rejection.

So he sits on rooftops and lets Keke think he’s angry when really he’s afraid of her. It would have been easier to say nothing and let his flirtation be subtle enough that she could ignore, but hiding his feelings from those he loves and respects had never been easy for Vax. Being a rogue is his profession, and he isn’t about to do his job at home with his most trusted companions when he’s meant to be comfortable.

Ah, but is trusted really the word?

Because one of their number had been talking to himself and practicing some heretofore unseen magics up until a couple weeks ago. With how long that thing lived inside of Percy, Vax wasn’t sure if the man they knew was the man they now had in their company. 

Vax likes Percy. Vax  _ loves _ Percy, but Percy had undergone quite a startling transformation, and Vax has spent too much time avoiding people recently to really know where their resident ambassador stands now. 

Perhaps this bit of processing requires some human contact.

Vax picks himself up off the wall, shaking the sleep from the leg he had tucked beneath him, and slips down into the keep, down to the lower floor, and down to the basement workshop. It’s dreadfully late, but Percy has a new gun and a head full of ideas, so there’s only one place for him to be.

The door is closed, but not locked. Vax isn’t sure, even with his prowess, that he’d be able to pick any lock that Percy puts on his most important door, so this is a blessing that saves him from knocking. He pushes the heavy metal door, peering inside to see Percy delicately wrestling a small pouch onto one of Vex’s arrows. 

“Step out just a minute,” Percy grunts, a bead of sweat dripping down his temple. “If this goes south, I don’t want you getting blown to pieces.”

“I’m a rogue. I can evade,” Vax says easily.

Percy presses his lips together, but doesn’t reply as he returns his full focus to the task at hand. Vax likes that about him. One warning is enough, and if they don’t get the hint, they reap the consequences. Vax is no stranger to consequences, so he simply leans against the wall and silently watches as Percy’s calloused fingers bind an explosive parcel to the arrow’s tip. It’s secretly been a point of jealousy for him that Vex gets all the fun toys from Percy, and he’s always wondered if something might be done to one of his daggers, or if he’d even be able to part with one long enough to find out. 

After some time, Percy finally finishes, and pulls a shaking hand away to wipe his brow. “I think that’s a good one,” he says. “Shouldn’t have to tell her to pad it before putting it in the quiver.”

“She really ought to be paying you for these,” Vax says.

Percy makes a face. “She’d only haggle me down until it’s no longer worthwhile.”

“True.” Vax considers him for a long moment, some longing part of his heart reaching out for that familiar, creative spark in Percy’s eyes, and breaking for the hollowness that still remains from their time in Whitestone. He may have changed, but he changed in a way that did damage. What place did that demon occupy in his soul, and what is left there now in its absence? “How are you, Percival?”

Percy looks at him full on now, seemingly surprised by the question. And having to actually think about the answer. “Well enough, I suppose,” he says. “We’re home now, our names are clear, my people are rebuilding. It’s the best I could hope for.”

“And Ripley?” Vax asks. “She’s still on the lam, what do you plan to do about that?”

He sucks in a breath, then lets it out slowly. “It’s regrettable,” he says. “I don’t like it, I don’t think she deserves that freedom after everything she’s done. But after what I’ve done, I’m not sure I get to decide who deserves what anymore.”

Vax cocks his head. “You don’t feel any responsibility for it?”

“I don’t feel  _ beholden _ to it.” He sets aside a few of the tools he was using in an organized fashion. Much as he likes explosions, Percy does like his things just so. “I don’t have an extra passenger in my head telling me what I want anymore. What I want is… just that now, it’s what  _ I _ want.”

“And what do you want?”

He pauses. “I want to not kill anybody else for at least another twenty-four hours.”

“Oh, now, who’d ever suspect you’d been possessed by a creature of darkness?” he says with a slight grin. “Aside from the little dark gifts it left, of course.”

“Ah, yes. These fanciful reminders,” Percy says grimly, waving a hand. A shadow envelopes the arrow he just made, and the item vanishes from the table. After a moment, he waves his hand again and it reappeares. “I can’t get rid of it, so I might as well use it, right?”

“‘Dark Percy’ does add an element of excitement to things.”

He scoffs, picking up the arrow and turning to place it with others that he’s made for Vex. “Truth be told, I’m fairly certain I left ‘Dark Percy’ down in those ruins beneath Whitestone.”

“Can he come out to play if asked nicely?”

There is a long pause following this. Percy remains still with his back to Vax, hands hovering just over the table. As amusing as it is to catch people off guard, Vax is a bit surprised himself. Right now, he’s not sure if he’s trying to goad Percy into a misstep, or something else entirely.

Then Percy turns, his round glasses glinting in the light of his forge’s fire. “Why did you come down here, Vax?” he says, something guarded in his voice.

Vax wills a quip to his tongue, but comes up empty as he searches for the answer. He searches for it in Percy’s eyes, hardening behind the glasses. He searches for it in the dirt streaked across his brow, mingled with the sheen of sweat. He searches for it in the filthy hands covered in gunpower and grease, hands capable of so many things, and so many more that Vax has yet to see.

“A lot of things are different now,” he finally says. “After Whitestone, I wanted to see what still remained of you.”

“Something tells me you came to explore more than interrogate,” Percy says, and that guarded quality in his voice tastes like lead to Vax, metallic and dangerous and heavy. 

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” Vax says.

“I remember that kiss you planted on me after we killed the Beholder.” Oh, now he’s amused, now he thinks he’s got the upper hand.

“Freddie, I’m touched.”

“Oh, like I could forget.” He advances a few steps, his eyes alight with curiosity and intrigue. “As much as it pains you, I think you like the little smoke spectacles, too.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Vax says. “Your spectacles are brass.”

Percy’s smirk widens, and now he’s so close that if he just leaned in, Vax would be able to feel his breath. “You like flirting with danger so much, you’d even try to sleep with it.”

He doesn’t know why it took this long for the realization to hit him, but he didn’t come down here to accuse Percy of anything. The threat of losing the people he wants to be closest to became so real over the last month that a piece of him inside is practically begging to touch someone. Not just anyone, either. He never fell in with Grog and Scanlan’s practice of hitting up the brothels every time they needed warm companionship, his lonesomeness only allows for drinking in the presence of someone he feels deeply connected to. 

And this might be foolish, but when did Vax ever think of the consequences before acting?

Percy opens his mouth to make another snide remark, but it amounts to nothing as Vax surges forward and drags Percy into a searing kiss. He makes a noise of surprise, and then Vax feels his hands instantly pinned to the wall behind him as Percy pulls back.

There’s a sense of disappointment, maybe fear, but it’s fleeting as he sees Percy’s surprise give way to a strange kind of fire. “So that  _ is _ what you wanted,” he says, in that borderline crowing voice he uses when he’s solved a problem, and knew he was right but maybe wasn’t positive. “A little date with the devil?”

“Not a devil,” Vax says, unable to help the husky quality of his voice now. “You’re not quite dark enough for that.”

And then Percy smiles, an evil sort of smile that Vax has seen flash just before a bullet destroys a man’s skull. Because Percy knows exactly what Vax wants, and it isn’t in his nature to back down from a challenge. His grip tightens on Vax’s wrists as he leans in, and shadows begin to bubble around those points of contact. They aren’t painful, but they’re cold enough to almost burn, in an incorporeal way. 

“Are you sure about that?”

This is like therapy, somehow, Vax thinks to himself. It must be. People talk about therapy --  _ Percy _ talks about therapy -- like it’s a physical action that flushes out the knot of emotion and stagnation inside of a person. And this is doing that. As Percy keeps him pinned and bites his neck, fighting his fight-or-flight instincts takes up too much brain space to worry about whatever he was worrying about. And Percy isn’t gentle, Percy bites to leave bruises, and that’s another thing Vax won’t worry about until later. 

There’s a bed in the corner that Percy sleeps on more than his own bed upstairs. It’s essentially utilitarian, but softer than Vax was expecting when his bare skin hits the sheets. Percy pushes him face-down toward the pillow, and he goes willingly, pliable, resisting only enough to make it interesting. A hand knots in his hair as teeth knick his shoulders, and then all contact disappears for a moment as Percy rummages for something underneath the bed.

“Just going to leave me waiting?” Vax says breathlessly.

“No,” comes Percy’s mild voice, soon after followed by a sensation in Vax’s rear end of something entering, but not quite roughly. A finger, and an unusually slick one at  that. “I’m not going to be cruel.”

“A shame,” Vax croaks, his last shred of sanity holding on for dear life as the finger curls in him. 

He doesn’t know why this is surprising, but Percy  _ has _ done this before. Where he found the time and inclination amid grieving for his family and his unending quest to avenge them, Vax will never know, but clearly he isn’t the only one with an attraction to dangerously unstable people. 

In fact, the one who seems like he’s new here is Vax, even though he certainly isn’t, it’s just been… a while. Now that the people he cares about exist in a cohesive unit, it’s more difficult to just grab one and have maybe-platonic sex, because everyone, eventually, will know. And it will be weird. And was this what Keyleth was trying to say? 

The thought goes flying out of his head when Percy sinks himself in, maybe too soon, but maybe Vax doesn’t really care. He’s starting to remember what to do, how to relax around the thrusts and tighten around the pulls. He allows himself to be pushed firmly into the bed, arms wrapped around the pillow and one hand pressed against the wall as he’s bucked forward and back. He’s quiet, because he’s always quiet, because it pays to be, but there’s musical moaning from behind that turns uncomfortable penetration into a warm, honeyed feeling in his gut. Pleasing someone else is sometimes nice.

And then the warm weight of Percival drapes over his back like a blanket, like protection, and a hand comes around to grab hold of Vax’s dick. This time, a moan ekes it’s way out of him, because now Percy is paying attention. Someone is paying attention to him and changing their rhythm for him and it’s  _ nice _ .

But Percy isn’t  _ nice _ . Percy once let Grog’s hands burn in acid to teach him a lesson. For all the pleasure he provides, he pushes himself  _ harder _ , and goes deep into Vax where no one has for a long time. And it hurts, yes, but the pain is clarifying in a way, puts Vax into this moment where he’s getting fucked by one of his best friends when he fully meant to without fully meaning to. His teeth sink into the pillow as the going gets rough, but he’s ridden out more difficult times, he won’t quit for discomfort. 

Percy applies more pressure with his hand. Vax feels the heat building in his gut, senses a metaphysical timer start ticking down faster than he can keep up with, and he feels a unique sort of panic that he’s going to finish, but he might not, and that threat is terrifying if not exactly sensible. 

“P-Percival,” he gasps, as a warning, or as a request, he doesn’t know. He pushes himself onto Percy, giving back as much as he’s getting, seeking a feeling he knows is just ahead of him, if he can only make it there.

Percy doesn’t say his name, and hasn’t this entire time. He’s made aimless comments that rush out of him, but he doesn’t say a name. “Percy,” Vax croaks again, because  _ gods _ , he’s so desperately close and he needs this release, the heat is building like a fire and something has to give. 

“Nearly… just nearly,” Percy gasps, but something he does with his hand, whether intentional or not, undoes Vax. His jaw drops in a soundless cry as heat spills to the blankets underneath him. His overly-sensitive body now rages with every movement from Percy behind him, but it isn’t long before he feels that presence pull away.

Maybe Percy is nice, as he pulls himself out before coming onto the blankets, too. 

Vax keeps his hand pressed to the wall, catching his breath as his vision returns. It’s not that he went blind, necessarily (it wasn’t  _ that _ good), it’s just that his brain isn’t processing images right now. 

After a moment, Percy grabs one of the extra blankets beside the bed and shoves it overtop of the mess, then collapses in what little space there is beside Vax. “Well, I certainly hadn’t been expecting  _ that _ to be part of my day.”

“No?” Vax says, slowly and shakily moving to lay on his side. “You seemed eager enough.”

“Eager doesn’t always mean planned,” he says, and his lack of disagreement puts something warm in Vax’s chest. He runs a hand through his shock of white hair, exhaling long and slow. “So what now?”

“Do we have to decide that?” Vax asks, then shrugs. “Just let it be. Go on as we have.”

“We can do that?”

“Why do anything else?”

Percy makes a face. “Because…  _ reasons _ . The  _ reasons _ we had for doing this, the reasons we might have to stop. What was this for you?”

Vax opens his mouth, pauses, then says, “Stress relief.” Percy laughs at that, and he glances over. “You?”

He makes an indecisive face. “Curiosity, I think,” he says. “It did, admittedly, also relieve a decent amount of stress. Funny how removing barriers will do that.” He looks over, studying Vax’s face. “Are we planning to do this again?”

He thinks on it for a moment, unwilling to burn a bridge he doesn’t need to. But he thinks about the people who hold his affections, and while he cares for Percy, this is really just a passing interest. It doesn’t grip him in a stranglehold the way others do. Perhaps that explains why it was so easy.

“No,” he says definitively.

Percy looks somewhere between crushed and offended. “Oh.”

Vax reaches over, drawing a hand over the man’s chest. “You did perfectly well,” he says firmly. “I’m only saying that… the curiosity is sated.”

The expression on his face settles, and he turns into the touch. “I think I agree,” he says, reaching over to caress Vax's shoulder. “But, while we're here….”

“Yes?”

Percy looks at him. “Well, could we not be gentle just a minute more?”

Vax pauses, but he accepts Percy's embrace without complaint. It's true, the gentle touches they receive are too few and far between, and if they're going to mutually forget about this later anyway, they might as well indulge. But Vax didn't necessarily come down here for gentle, and he thinks he may have someone else in mind to obtain that. 

The things he needs are not exclusive from person to person, however. That wouldn't be fair, to compartmentalize his friends like that and assign them tasks according to his needs. Just because Percy isn't _ nice _ doesn't mean he can't be gentle. Vax has seen him talking with Pike, and quickly ushering Keyleth out of bars the moment he realizes she's had a bit too much. When he's gentle, he doesn't do it with an agenda, like he does with his meaner actions, so the way he softly presses his lips to Vax's neck over bruises he left is just a sign that he needs it, and maybe knows that Vax does, too.

He allows it. He reciprocates, because coming down here as a touch-starved, love-stunted man doesn't end with an orgasm, and it feels good to have a different sort of outlet for a different sort of frustration. 

Percy's hand drifts down his abdomen, deft fingers lightly tracing a healing scar there from his latest near-death experience. “You really do flirt with death, don't you?” he says absently. “It's always just an afterthought.”

“There are more important things to do,” Vax says.

“I think it's the most important thing you  _ can _ do. The manner in which you do it, the state you leave the world in when you do. I imagine it's thrilling to come so close so many times that you could nearly call it a booty call.”

Vax stays quiet for a moment. He doesn't like thinking too much about why death doesn't matter to him, in comparison to other things. No, he doesn't want to leave his sister behind, but if he has to in order for her to carry on, so be it. But it's rarely just to protect her. He protected someone else's sister last time. The time before, simple lack of forethought had nearly led to his early grave.

Percy isn't lecturing him, anyway. Percy rarely lectures, knowing he has no leg to stand on most of the time. He's simply awed at Vax's nihilism. 

Vax takes the hand tracing his scar and laces his fingers through it, then turns and kisses Percy long and slow, to explore, to see how it feels. “Perhaps,” he says quietly, “I could do less of that.”

Percy looks at him, eyes heavily-lidded, still bright from the pleasures but also foggy with whatever magical aura has descended on them this night. He looks… surprised, but more than that. Touched, maybe, or some emotion that Vax isn't intuitive enough to parse out. “You know,” he says quietly, “just speaking for myself here, but… I would very much like if you did less of that.”

Vax doesn't read into it, just ducks his head to tuck under Percy's chin and closes his eyes. Percy threads his fingers through Vax's long hair, and, strangely, begins to hum. He has before, on only one other occasion that Vax can recall, at a time when Percy thought no one could hear him. He can believe it's happened more often when he's alone, and theorizes that it may be a tune from Whitestone, and his childhood when things were still whole. Whatever it is, it's another removal of a barrier, something that Vax is allowed to experience and no one else. A moment of fondness that exposes the soft heart of the mechanical man. 

Vax memorizes the melody as he drifts off to sleep.

\----  
  


Vex won't stop eyeing him at breakfast. A natural tracker, she's good at noticing when things are different or out of place, and she knows her brother better than even her most favored terrain. 

But she hasn't said anything yet, and he knows why: she can't fucking figure out who the hell he slept with. She sees marks on his neck, he's not hiding them well, but all the guards can confirm that he never left the keep last night.

She rips a piece of bacon off with her back teeth. “Jarret,” she says finally. “I wouldn't blame you.”

"The only one who wants to shag Jarret is you,” he says without even looking up from his meal.

“That is patently untrue,” Scanlan says. “Look at him. That bronze skin, that easy smile. If he ever winked, we'd all perish.”

Jarret, at the next table over, winks back at him. Scanlan swoons appropriately.

“No winking is more powerful than mine,” Vex says.

“You didn't see his! Turn around, look -- Jarret, wink again.”

“I am not your monkey,” he says breezily. 

“Shayne, then,” she says to Vax. “I see her looking at you sometimes.”

“I don't.”

“What are we doing?” Scanlan asks. “Hot or not? Wed, bed, behead? For me, Shayne is wed, Jarret is bed, and Grog is behead.”

“Why?” grunts the Goliath.

Vex reaches forward and yanks on Vax's collar. “He got laid last night, stupid, I'm trying to figure out who and how.”

“Easy,” Vax chides, extricating himself from her grasp. “Just tell the whole world, why don't you.”

“ _ Laid _ ?” says Scanlan, as though scandalized. He turns to the next table. “Jarret!”

“It wasn't me, my friend,” he says.

“Would you, though?”

Jarret's expression becomes exaggeratedly guarded. “I try to avoid sleeping with my employers. I imagine it would complicated matters.”

“So you would!”

“But he didn't,” says Vex. “ _ Someone _ did.”

“And it's none of your business who,” says Vax. “I don't have to share  _ everything. _ ”

“It's gotta be someone within the keep?” Grog asks, to which Vex nods. He looks up. “I say Percy.”

Vax, to his credit, does not move a single muscle in a way he normally wouldn't. He doesn't freeze, he doesn't start with surprise, because this is Grog. He's not going to get it in one go off of any significant evidence. 

“Morning, all,” says Percy from behind, sounding as chipper as if he'd gotten a full night's rest. 

“Grog, don't be stupid,” Vex says. 

“I'm not!”

“He could just as well have slept with you, then, or Scanlan.”

“Well it wasn't me,” he says. “If  _ I _ bit him, there'd be more than a bruise there.” He laughs, then calms himself. “Percy just looks like he's got his rocks off. I know that look.”

Percy seats himself, looks around like nothing's wrong, then focuses on Vex. “I have three more explosive arrows for you.”

She gestures as though he's just proved a point. “See? He doesn't need sex when he's got his inventions. Thank you, darling, I'm thrilled to have those in my quiver again.”

“So,” says Scanlan, narrowing his eyes at the room at large, “back to square one.”

“I'm going out,” Vax says, and rises from the table. The exact moment he turns to exit, he sees Keyleth entering the hall. 

“Morning, everyone,” she says brightly. “What are we talking about?”

“Trying to figure out who pegged our rogue last night,” Scanlan says, unaware of Vex's sudden attempts to shush him.

Keyleth's smile falters as she glances at Vax in confusion. “What?”

Vax leaves the hall without a word.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We take a break from steamy romance to follow Vex on her latest bid for financial gain.

Well, it was fun spending the rest of breakfast trying to delicately explain to Keyleth the little game that had been going on before she entered, and having her delicately pretend to not care, and awkwardly attempt to join in. Poor girl. Vex had known it wasn’t her from the beginning -- Keke’s not a biter. 

So her brother’s an ass, what else is new? The game isn’t sustainable, because clearly he doesn’t want to share the information and prying any more will just wind up being more harm than it’s worth. Scanlan may continue to snoop for answers, but as long as Vex washes her hands of it now, she won’t be getting killed later when their nosy bard crosses boundaries. 

Vox Machina isn’t doing anything today, as a group, so she takes her own leave shortly after her brother and goes back to her chambers. Much as a sister shouldn’t want to know anything about her brother’s sexual escapades, something about it nags at her. Probably because he doesn’t  _ do  _ this. With Scanlan and Grog, getting them to  _ stop _ talking is the problem, and she could certainly do with less information from them, but Vax rarely demands his privacy from his sister. While she gives it willingly, it’s always with some concern. She’s been worried about his emotional state since Winter’s Crest in Whitestone, and him sneaking off to bed some mystery person doesn’t necessarily bode well.

A lot happened to them, a lot that cut deeper than the trip down to the Underdark had. That had been scary, with a somewhat trapped feeling accompanying the entire adventure, but Whitestone had called a lot of trust and competency into question. Percy is still finding ways to make amends, and Keyleth won’t talk about Vax at all, much less try to sort out the mess there. Despite her willingness to lend an ear, people don’t seem to want Vex’s help with it. 

“They’re all big dummies,” she says to Trinket, scratching behind his fuzzy ears. “You’re not like that, are you, big guy? You just do what you’re supposed to and don’t let all these nasty feelings get in the way.”

Trinket snuffles at her and lets out a grunt. She’s still not sure how much he understands of what she tells him sometimes, but his message is usually clear: I’m with you, I love you. 

“There’s a good boy.” She moves to start cleaning up a bit, finding places for some of the items she obtained from Whitestone. Few of the things they looted were any good for her, but that doesn’t stop her from grabbing all she can. A few pieces of armor, a couple of knives that Vax didn’t want, and the bow she’d gotten from the giant fortress. It takes a bit, but she manages to locate some spare brackets to affix to the wall, so that her new bow can be mounted underneath the old one. 

In the midst of her working a screw into the stonework, she hears a tapping on her door. “Yes?” she says, turning to look. Trinket remains napping in the corner, unconcerned with guests. 

Jarett stands in the doorway, his crossbow in hand again now that breakfast is done. “Lady Vex’ahlia,” he says, dipping his head. “Might I have a quick word?”

She blows a piece of hair out of her face, which also functions as a sigh, and gets off the floor. “Of course. Is there a problem?”

“Not as such,” he says. “Last night, after you had all turned in, Shayne returned to the keep for her watch. She’d been out with some friends, and she heard some talk about some sort of creature just outside the city. Apparently, there’s a large hole in the ground, and when someone tried to fill it, they never came back.”

Vex looks at him. “A hole in the ground?”

“A big hole.”

“Jarett, darling, you’re talking to a councilwoman, a champion of Emon, a woman who’s saved our beloved sovereign twice from forces of evil.”

He shrugs, flashing a smile. “Champions get bored.”

“Does it pay?”

“Fifteen hundred gold bounty.”

She snorts. “That’s pocket change, dear.”

“Pocket change you could put towards paying your staff.” 

She narrows her eyes at him, but he holds her gaze seemingly effortlessly. He knows how much she likes petty cash. “I’ll look into it,” she says.

He gives another respectful nod. “The only one I could think of for the job, my lady.”

“How charming of you.” She turns to go back to her room modifications, but notices that he hasn’t left her doorway. “Was there something else?”

For the first time, she sees discomfort flit across his face. “Ah, I hope my words this morning were not, er, out of line. The topic of conversation was not strictly professional, and maybe I shouldn’t have involved myself.”

Vex laughs, turning away. “Oh, darling, don’t worry yourself. If anything, Scanlan got you involved. We like humor in our employees, you ought to be prepared to give as good as you get.”

Her words seem to succeed in calming him. “I will keep that in mind in the future.”

She turns, then pauses once again. “But  _ I _ am the best at winking around here.”

He puts a hand to his chest. “But of course, Lady Vex’ahlia.”

She waggles her fingers at him. “Dismissed. Go, do whatever it is you need to do.”

“Understood.” 

He closes the door as he leaves, and Vex returns to the task at hand. 

When her self-appointed chores are done, she decides it might be a good idea to go see what rumors she can dredge up from the peasants. After careful deliberation, she takes her old bow off the wall and brings it with her for the day. Never know when someone will want to pick a fight. “Come on, Trinket,” she says, drawing a mournful groan from her sleepy bear as she leaves.

Just as she’s reaching the front hall of Greyskull Keep, she hears Keyleth call her name.

“Vex, hey, do you have a second? Maybe?”

She presses her lips together, then brings up a calm facade as she turns around. “For you? Of course.”

“Hey.” Keyleth puts on that smile that Vex has seen dozens of times, the one she makes when she’s feeling particularly nervous and hopes no one notices. “So, this morning, with Vax….”

“Uh huh.”

“That was a little weird, huh?” She puts her hands on her hips in a valiant attempt to be relatable. 

“A bit?” Vex isn’t sure where this is going, and is a little afraid of the answer.

“I mean, that’s not really like him. He usually spends more time with people before… that… right?”

Vex opens her mouth, and no words come out for a moment. She’s sort of piecing it together: Keyleth doesn’t know whether she ought to be hurt about this incident, and is probably even more uncertain about what Vax’s original intentions with her were. She takes a breath, then says as gently as possible, “I think people do unexpected things when they’re stressed.”

Keyleth visibly fights a grimace. “He propositioned me, at Winter’s Crest. I… didn’t know what to do, I turned him down. He seemed like he felt so strongly, and I just didn’t think I could reciprocate that, you know?”

Any other time, she would have been happy to help, but she’s on her way out the door and hadn’t been mentally preparing for this conversation. Keyleth is her friend, though, and she knows what a frustrating pain in the ass her brother can be when he gets too wrapped up in his own head. “He’s a complicated man,” she says. “And he’s an intense man. You’re perfectly entitled to tell him to fuck off whenever you deem appropriate.”

“Yeah, but,” she bites her lip, “what if  _ I _ pushed him to do something he normally wouldn’t? What if I upset him and now he’s going to go on some sort of bender and-”

Vex grabs her by the shoulders. “If he does, it’s his own fault. And if he does all of it simply because you told him no, then you were absolutely right to do it. If his emotional stability is entirely contingent on how you respond to him, he doesn’t deserve you.” She lets go, stepping back. “But he’s not that awful, I can at least say that. Whatever’s going on with him, it’s not your fault. He’ll come to us in time. And maybe this isn’t even a bad thing, who knows? Maybe he’s learning how to relax and have fun more and we’re all freaking out over nothing.”

Keyleth still looks uncertain, but her nerves seem to have calmed somewhat. “I’m still worried about him,” she says.

Vex softens. “Me, too,” she says quietly. “But we have to wait for him to come to us. He’ll just keep running away otherwise.”

“I know.” She takes a breath. “I might go sit with Pike in the temple today. The quiet always helps to clear my mind.”

“Hanging with Pike is always a good idea,” Vex says. “I’m heading out for a bit, but I’ll be back tonight.”

“I’ll be around.”

Vex reaches out and briefly grabs Keyleth’s hand to squeeze it, Trinket gives her a comforting nudge, then the two make their way out of the keep. 

She refuses to worry about her brother and his complicated love life all day. 

Once inside the city walls, it isn’t too difficult to pick up the string of rumors Jarett had been talking about. It seems word has been spreading all morning in this quarter about how the Farlow family’s farm has a strange hole that’s recently appeared and started swallowing people. It’s all secondhand, however, and it takes a while to finally track down someone with any actual knowledge.

“Oh, yeah,” says a blonde dwarven woman, who stands beside a cart full of asparagus and spinach. “Farlow had us put up a sign next to it yesterday to make sure people don’t just fall in. No one’s tried to fill it again, though.”

“How much of a problem is it?” Vex asks.

She shrugs. “I’d say not much of one, if it weren’t for Mr. Danner’s disappearance. It’s closer to the city wall than it is to Farlow’s plots, but a hole about six feet across is nothing you just want to leave be. Well,” she snorts, “usually.”

“Do you think something lives in the hole?”

“Something that size, appearing like it did?” She gives Vex a grim look. “No normal person is going to be digging that out for no reason, I can say that.”

“Right. Can you tell me where Mr. Farlow’s farm is?”

“Certainly. If you go out the southeastern gate, it’s just a bit more north. The house is made of big old logs, and the barn’s got yellow paneling.”

“Thanks for your time,” Vex says, tossing the dwarf a gold coin. The farm doesn’t sound like it’s too far from their keep, meaning she won’t have to make a four hour journey like they did the last time farmers needed their help. She and Trinket head back the way they came, out the city gates and to the steadily dwindling neighborhoods beyond.

It’s still a good couple of hours walk from where she’d been in Abdar’s Promenade, but the house itself is easy to spot. Few buildings are built from roughly-hewn logs anymore, so this one must have been in the family for a few generations. She tells Trinket to wait at the bottom of the steps as she mounts the front porch, then knocks.

The door opens about halfway to partially reveal an older man with a sharply angled jaw covered in gray stubble. “Can I help you?” he says.

“Hi, Mr. Farlow?” Vex says with a smile. “I’m here about the hole in your property.”

He narrows his eyes and opens the door slightly further. “I tried to fill it, but my man disappeared, so I put a sign up. Not sure what else to do about it now.”

“I’m thinking I can help with that,” she says. “My name is Vex’ahlia, I’m with Vox Machina over in Greyskull Keep. I’d appreciate it if you could show me where this hole is so I can take a look.”

With another doubtful glance sizing her up, he eventually steps around the door and closes it behind him. “I talked to the city guards about it,” he says, then loses his train of thought as soon as he notices the armored bear standing by his house. 

“It’s alright, he’s with me,” Vex says quickly before anyone can start yelling.

Farlow gives a heavily suspicious look to the animal, then cautiously continues on. “I talked to the guard, but they don’t seem too fussed about it. Didn’t think they’d send anyone out for another few days.”

“What of your farm hand, Danner?” Vex asks. “If he’s dead, I’d think that’d catch their attention.”

“Don’t really know if he’s dead,” Farlow admits. “He’s not my best or brightest, he could have just headed off when I told him to fill the hole. Could have fallen down there and gotten lost. I never saw a body.”

“You think he could be alive?” 

He shrugs. “I don’t know what’s what, Miss. I’d just like someone better equipped than me to deal with it.”

He walks her out to the edge of the property, where the city walls loom and a small cluster of young trees and bushes gather for several yards. Clearly this area hasn’t been used for production in quite some time, and Vex wonders how they even noticed there was a hole out here to begin with.

Then she sees it. A great pit in the ground, about six feet across and almost perfectly round. Mounds of dirt unevenly ring the edge, and a handmade wooden sign is posted nearby that says  _ Warning! Hole! _

“We never heard a sound or anything out this way. Just showed up,” says Farlow as she crouches to inspect the dirt. 

“Whatever it was that made this came up from underground, not down from up here,” she says, then looks down inside. “There’s a tunnel.”

“Yeah, I’ve been wondering if that’s where Danner went.”

She judges it’s about an eight foot drop, then jumps down. The tunnel continues on into pitch darkness, and when she leans in, her nose picks up a sweet, sickly smell coming from within. Something’s in there alright. Sickly-sweet smells never come from anything other than monsters. 

Trinket moans nervously from above, and she backs out of the tunnel. “It’s alright, Trink, I’m not going in yet,” she says before climbing back out of the hole. “You’ve not seen evidence of anything else out of the ordinary on your property?”

Farlow shakes his head. “Just this. Haven’t seen anything come out, and Danner disappearing is the last thing that’s happened.”

“Right.” She looks down, then at the surrounding area. No tracks she can see. “Well, it’s getting quite late, and by the time I’d get back here with more help, it’ll be the middle of the night. I’ll come back tomorrow with more people, and we’ll head down there to take a look.”

“Mighty kind of you,” he says. “I don’t have much to give you, but I know the guards posted a bit of a bounty for someone else to come do their job.”

“And we’re always more than happy to oblige,” Vex says. “Shall we bother you first when we get here, or would you prefer we get straight to work?”

“I’ll leave your work to you if you leave me to mine.”

“Done.” She sticks out a hand to shake his. “We’ll have this taken care of before you know it, Mr. Farlow.”

“It’s appreciated. Be safe on your way home, no telling what else might be out here.”

He heads back to his house, and she takes Trinket back to the road home. She starts to make her plans, part of her brain turning over all the possible creatures that could be down in the hole, another part deciding to make Vax come along. He could probably use a distraction, and getting to stab dangerous creatures without any consequences seems like a good one. They always work best together, anyway. 

When she gets back to the keep, she discovers Vax still hasn’t come home. She tells Shayne to keep an eye out for him, then retires to her chambers for the rest of the evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I looked up small dnd adventures for the B-plot, so credit for this setup goes to John McMahill and his adventure, Cruelly Used, that can be found online. I'd recommend not looking it up if you plan to continue reading this fic, though, because spoilers.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vax's morning after regrets are interrupted by a welcome guest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize the textile shop speakeasy was discovered later on. It's okay, this is fanfiction and we take liberties with the canon.

The little speakeasy behind the textile shop doesn’t serve food, but that doesn’t stop Vax from trying to order some. He offers to pay ridiculously well, and in the end they manage to cobble together a sandwich and some nuts, and nearly scold him for trying to pay three times its worth. He takes it to a small table shoved in the back, not really in the corner because larger tables occupy the corners. He’s more out of the way, as he likes it, with a tankard of ale and his impromptu sandwich.

He doesn’t dig in, which may leave some of the bar staff a little miffed. He didn’t get it because he’s hungry, he just knows that he ought to eat at some point if the one mug of ale he has starts to turn into more. 

Though to look at him now, one might think he’d already been at it for a while. He sits, hollow-eyed, with a hand resting on his mug and the other loosely holding the sandwich. It feels like too much effort to move things the way he should. 

What the fuck did he do last night? Why did he think that was a good idea? Answer: he didn’t, because he didn’t think at all. He never does. And now he’s fucked Percy and sooner or later, everyone’s going to find out and it’s going to get  _ weird _ . And maybe Percy’s cool about it now, or he was in the ten seconds they interacted for the entire morning, but what about when it starts to sink in for him, too? What if he’s revolted with what they did?

Worse, what if he wants  _ more _ ?

Vax takes a large bite of his sandwich, followed closely by a deep swig of ale, and returns to his hollow staring. What if he has to start ignoring Percival, too? He can’t just slowly work his way through Vox Machina like this until there’s no one left but Vex. Well… he could….. They got along well enough on their own before….

No, this is ridiculous. He’s done a lot for them, and they’ve done a lot in return. A slow death for the group at his hands is no way to let things end.

And yet, he’s well on his way. Keyleth will probably never look at him again, and he doesn’t know what the hell he’s going to do with Percy. Maybe it’ll be fine and their gunslinger won’t care, maybe things will be even better and they’ll work more closely now. Or maybe Percy won’t know what to do, either, and they’ll go on being weird and avoiding each other until Vex knocks their heads together and gets the truth out.

He shudders. He doesn’t want Vex to know. If  _ this  _ is how she discovers his slowly unraveling emotional state, she’ll want to do something about it, and he doesn’t want her help. He doesn’t want her worry. 

The door separating the textile shop from the back bar opens, and then Vax has a jarring moment of having no idea what to do with his hands. He’s sitting like a traumatized child over half a sandwich and of course, who else but Shaun Gilmore walks in. For a split second, Vax hopes he’s blending in enough with the background that he’ll remain unnoticed, but no such luck. He’s pretty sure, even with all of his roguish talents, Gilmore would always be able to pick him out of a crowd.

“Well, what a nice surprise,” he says, and he’s the only person in the world that can make that phrase sound unironic. “I didn’t know you patronized this place.”

“Usually don’t,” Vax says, his voice rough from disuse. He clears his throat. “Good to see you, Gilmore.”

“And you, my friend.” He looks about the room, at the meager crowd that has formed as afternoon just begins to crawl into evening. “Do you mind company? I don’t want to be a bother if you’d rather be alone.”

Vax kicks out the chair across from him, then motions at the bartender to get him a second ale. “It would just be weird if you sat elsewhere.”

Gilmore seems genuinely pleased at the invitation, which makes Vax regret it slightly less, and he seats himself. The golden jewelry around his neck jingles in a way that makes Vax almost nostalgic for the shop, and after a moment, realizes he’s staring at Gilmore’s exposed chest and looks away. If a girl would smack him for doing it, he shouldn’t be doing it to a man. 

“It’s rare that I see you without at least one of your compatriots,” Gilmore says as a second tankard of ale is brought to the table.

“It’s sometimes nice to get away for a bit,” Vax says. “Expectations, you know.”

Gilmore snorts. “Well I do. Why do you think I’m here instead of Westruun? We all need time to ourselves every now and again.” He pauses, keeping his glittering smile firmly in place, but his dark eyes are carefully inspecting the rogue in front of him.

Gilmore is a much more complicated man than Vox Machina had first thought when they arrived in Emon. Every inch of him portrays the Gloriousness of his store, from the way he richly dresses, to the way he vibrantly greets people like his single shop is an entire empire. And yet, he's genuine. At least, he is with Vox Machina, and making time for them has never solely been about financial opportunity. It's one of the reasons Vax has grown so fond of him. That, and he knows he's a bit of a sucker for a luxurious man.

But right now, he doesn't appear to be extroverting for the sake of it. He eyes Vax with a mark of concern, not making it obvious, but clearly seeing the wreck that sits before him. “Is everything alright, Vax?”

No. Not at all. “Peachy,” he says with a smile, leaning back in his chair. “I'm in your company, after all.”

That earns a chuckle, but doesn't dissuade him. “You know how much I hate to pry,” he says, and sort of leaves it hanging like that.

Vax heaves a sigh. “Oh, you know,” he says. “Adventuring can be… stressful. Not to say running a shop isn't-”

“You don't have to tell me,” Gilmore says with a wave of his hand. “Collecting debts may get hairy, but I'm not staring down the length of a blade every other day.”

“Sometimes more than that,” Vax says. He's never hidden things from Gilmore before, it'll certainly look strange if he does now. “I think our last journey ended up striking a bit closer to home, is all.”

“Yes, I'd heard about your temporary exile from the council,” Gilmore says, eyes darkening. “I'm not merely being polite when I say I was worried. I wasn't sure what to think; I know that you tend to… act rather quickly.”

Vax's mouth twitches. “That's kind of you.”

“I could only hope you'd acted with your usual good intentions.” He takes a sip of ale, in a much more contained fashion than Vax's friends tend to swig it. “It was a relief to hear you'd returned and been pardoned. After all, how well could you advertise my brand if you're outcasts?”

Vax joins his laughter for a moment, and as it fades between them, he feels a sense of incompleteness still lingering. “I almost lost my sister,” he says, almost a whisper.

Gilmore's eyes spark like he realizes the significance of this, but not the extent. “I'm very glad you didn't.”

“In a place where -- no magic could touch.” He feels the words leaving him like Gilmore has tugged a loose string from a scarf and is unraveling it all. “I gave her a healing potion, and it didn't -- I couldn't-”

Gilmore reaches out to grasp his wrist. He's usually not the one to initiate contact, but when he does, he knows when it's needed. “I'm sorry. I can't imagine how difficult that must have been.”

Vax grits his teeth to steady himself, and manages to suppress that unraveling feeling. “We got her out. She managed to stabilize on her own, tough girl that she is. Between Pike and the potions we had left, it wasn’t a problem for long.”

Gilmore looks at him with sympathy. “A traumatic experience, I’d say.”

Vax nods stiffly. “Between that and other things, yeah. Traumatic is one word.”

“I take it that’s why you’ve sought out, erm, other means of coping?”

Vax doesn’t  _ blush _ . He’s seen too much and put himself in too many stupid situations to be embarrassed about things. But when Gilmore’s eyes go to the neck that he hadn’t bothered to cover, he feels his entire face heat to boiling. “I-”

“You don’t have to kiss and tell,” Gilmore says, waving his hand about again. “It’s unusual for you, is all. And noticeable. We do sell scarves at my shop, if you need….”

“No.” He claps a hand over his neck, looking away. Talking about his hickies and bruises is conjuring memories of last night, and neither his heart nor his body knows whether to be pleased at those memories, or to shrink away. 

“I’m sorry. That was rude.” Gilmore retracts his hands to his side of the table, dark fingers curling around the handle of his mug. 

It’s not Gilmore knowing personal things that makes him uncomfortable. Hell, he’s probably shared a lot of things Gilmore would rather not have heard, because he’s always felt the need to  _ share share share _ with this man. If this were anything else, he would have already confessed it.

But he slept with someone else. He went to bed with someone, neither of the two people that he aches for a relationship with, for no better reason than to cope. And with Gilmore being one of those two people….

It’s not embarrassment. It’s shame. He doesn’t know if this flirtation between himself and Gilmore means anything to the shop owner, but the fact that it means something to him makes his actions last night inappropriate. 

After a quiet sip of his drink, Gilmore sets his mug down rather deliberately. “Vax,” he says, firmly but quietly. He waits until Vax looks at him. “You’re entitled to help yourself. In your line of work, how could you not? You’re a rogue, an adventurer. Rules don’t apply to you, do they? It pains me to see you looking so weary, so I entreat you to engage in those things that lift your spirits, so that all of this hero work doesn’t wind up grinding you down. It has for so many, and I’d hate for that to be your end, too.”

It’s funny, how he dances around things by being at once sincere and performative. He means what he says, but he means  _ more _ than what he says. Vax can hear it, a concern that runs deeper than a sponsor/beneficiary relationship. It makes him feel worse for what he did last night, but less bad that Gilmore is aware. “I don’t always know what’s good for me,” he says.

Gilmore studies him for a moment, then takes a much deeper drink of his beer. He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand, a more rugged gesture that looks strangely attractive for all his airs and graces. “How about we take this somewhere a bit more private?”

Normally, Vax jumps at that suggestion. Today, he hesitates. “I’m not sure-”

“I insist,” says Gilmore, which he usually only does to be magnanimous. “I think we have a few things to discuss.”

Vax’s mind whirls as he obediently stands to follow Gilmore out of the pub. He’s speaking just like he does when there are deals to be made, finances to gain. It’s hard to know if he’s doing it because he thinks the familiar language will get Vax to acquiesce, or because he’s nervous, too. Vax hopes it’s not the latter, because only one of them is allowed to be this uncertain at a time.

They make the relatively short trip to Gilmore’s Glorious Goods, where Sherri is manning the counter once again. She glances over at Vax with a disinterested, nearly contemptuous eye, likely bored by his affect on her boss at this point. He’s feeling just naughty enough to give her a wink and make her roll her eyes.

They go to the back room, through the beaded curtain that Scanlan so loves to riff on. Vax has only been back here once before, after the party returned from Vasselheim, and the anxiety he felt then creeps back into his stomach now. They’d merely sat at the room’s small table and chairs, but being in such close proximity to that luxurious bed, while thoughts of a decidedly inappropriate nature filled his mind, made it hard to focus. It would be one thing if they were really going somewhere with their flirting, but Gilmore has only ever reciprocated what Vax does and made no new moves himself, which has led Vax to think he’s not particularly interested. 

“More drink?” Gilmore asks, moving to a small sidetable that holds a few glass decanters.

“Sure.”

He pours amber liquid into two crystal glasses and brings one over to Vax. “Nice and quiet,” he says with a smile. “I can work a crowd as well as the next man, but there’s just something about a moment alone with someone dear to you, don’t you think?”

Vax pauses mid-sip. A warm feeling blooms in his chest, uncertain, and unrelated to the liquor. “I agree,” he says, voice rough because he was too surprised to swallow properly. He coughs.

“You know,” says Gilmore, turning away to walk a few steps toward his little table. “Flowery language and guarded speech is always good to spark intrigue, but once a customer is in a position to buy, it’s always best to be clear and direct. The price, for instance, of an item, or the cost of late payment.” He shifts his magnificent silk robe slightly, so it doesn’t wrinkle as he sits. “You know this to be true, yes? We’ve had enough business dealings with one another.”

Not sure where this is going, and not daring to speculate, Vax gestures jauntily with his glass. “Right you are. You promised me death for not paying debts. I’ve paid all my debts, and here I stand.”

Gilmore chuckles. “Precisely.” Then the humor fades from his eyes, and they harden in a way that Vax isn’t used to. “So, Vax. Are you going to be clear, or shall I start?”

He holds Gilmore’s gaze for a long moment. The room is so quiet, he can hear a customer asking Sherri a question out in the store. Finally, he moves to the table, sets his glass down, and slides into the second chair. “Gilmore,” he says. Then he moves his gaze to the table, unable to keep it up any longer. “I admire you… a lot. Your intelligence, your skill, your looks.” He glances up, briefly. “You are an attractive man, few can dispute this.”

“I’d dare say none,” he says lightly.

“I know you’re our sponsor, but you’re -- you take a special care in -- us. Our safety, as well as our work. You’re not a mother hen, but you-” He falters, hating the current track, and tries something else. “I respect you. I appreciate everything you do, and that you listen to me when I bend your ear. I feel-”

Gilmore takes him by the hand, lacing ringed fingers with Vax’s partially gloved ones. “Would you join me for dinner tomorrow evening?” he says. “I know you’re terribly busy, but if you could find the time….”

Vax stares at him, mind devoid of any sort of response. Here he is, trying to wrangle is confusing thoughts and feelings into words, trying to make it right for Gilmore, give him the truth that he deserves, and he just goes and asks outright. 

_ Have dinner with me. _

Not,  _ let’s go grab a bite and some wine _ , not,  _ let’s have a chat _ . 

_ Have dinner with me _ .

_ Go on a date with me _ .

“W-where?” he says, desperately trying to blink himself out of this surprise.

“Why don’t you meet me here?” he says, a gleam in his eyes that could be amusement, or could just as easily be mischief. “And dress nicely. You have a keep, I know you ought to have formalwear.”

“I… have nice things,” he says, even as he mentally catalogs those nice things and fears they’re woefully inadequate. 

“Good. I’m thinking about seven o’clock. I should be done with my duties by then, and the shop won’t have much business.”

“Right.” It starts to process. Gilmore has asked him on a date, impossibly, and Vax has somehow agreed to it. He doesn’t know if this is a nightmare or a dream yet. 

But he squares his shoulders, letting some of his confidence in himself seep back into his limbs, because he’ll be damned if he leaves this room without giving Gilmore a solid reason to not regret his decision. “Tomorrow, at seven. I’ll be sharp as a knife.” 

“Oh, I don’t doubt it,” Gilmore says with a smirk. 

Vax swallows hard, then drains his glass and gets to his feet. “I think I can find my way out.”

“Are you sure?”

He hesitates, wondering if Gilmore wants a few extra moments with him, then realizes he’s being toyed with. “Come on, Gil. You don’t even have a door to stump me.”

He blinks, trying to go with the thread of teasing but clearly bewildered by the comment. “Are they often a problem?”

“No.” Vax flashes a smile, then turns and exits through the beaded curtain. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vex just tries to do her job amid everyone else's nonsense.

Vex watches from the doorway as her brother paces his room, going from the closet, to the bed, and back, always with a different article of clothing in hand. “Did you go shopping?” she asks.

“I should have brought Percy,” he says, making a face. “He’s much better at clothes.”

“Just borrow his, then, you’re almost the same size.”

“Almost? No, sister, clothes need to  _ fit _ .”

She sighs. “Where are you going, anyway? I thought you could help me with something tonight.”

He pauses his fretting to look at her, not quite sheepish, but almost. “I can’t, I’m busy tonight. I’m….” She can see him struggling to tell her. She hopes it’s only because he’s having trouble with his words, and not with trusting her with personal things. “I’m going out… with someone.”

She narrows her eyes. “Out? On a date?”

“It… could be a date.”

Her eyebrows shoot for her hairline. “The same person you shagged the other night?”

“No.” He gives her a look. “I don’t want to talk about that.”

Oof. Whatever he did, he must not be proud of it. She slides all the way into the room and closes the door. “Well, Keyleth is out hanging with the trees right now, so I’m going to safely assume it’s not with her.”

He pauses as he lifts a shirt to inspect it. There’s a bit of a slope to his shoulders, another blow to his pride. “It’s not.”

She doesn’t feel particularly upset about this. It’s not a problem for her to be upset over. As much as she loves her brother, and as much as she adores Keyleth, they’re their own people and she doesn’t have any influence over their romantic lives. But, if it starts causing trouble with the party, then it does become her problem. “Am I to understand that the situation has been dropped, then?”

He sighs. “She said no, I think. Doesn’t seem to want anything to do with it, anyway.” He turns. “I’m going out for a  _ good  _ time tonight. May I have that?”

She rolls her eyes. “Who with, then?”

He raises his chin, and she knows damn well when his confidence is fake. “Gilmore.”

Big shocker. “How’d you pull that off?”

“Mostly made sad puppy eyes at him until he took pity.” He holds up a dark jacket, squared at the edges with a high collar. “What do you think?”

Vex tilts her head. “Your snake belt would look good with that.”

“I thought so, too!”

“And wear your cloak to the side, that’s very in style now.”

He gives her a sidelong look as he begins carefully placing the items he’s selected. “So what did you want me for tonight, anyway?”

“Oh, nothing major,” she sighs, slumping against the wall. “Some hole with a thing in it. I’ll ask one of the others.”

“Big hole or little hole?”

“Big, as I hear. Sounds like it eats people.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Shall I tell Gilmore to reschedule?”

“Don’t you  _ dare _ ,” she hisses. “You charm that man to pieces and get us the discount of our lives, you hear? And I’m expecting you not to come back tonight.”

He smiles, a real smile that looks golden on his normally somber face. “I’ll do my best.”

“You’d better. Give him my love when you see him.” She opens the bedroom door, and pauses on her way out. “And, brother?”

“Hm?” He looks up, eyes now sparkling with excitement.

“Do try your best to enjoy yourself, won’t you?”

He smirks, shaking his head. “You ask for much, but I’ll do anything for you.”

“There’s a dear.” She leaves his room, shutting the door so he can change. 

Well. Good for him, at least, but that does leave her with the question of who to bring along to the mystery hole. Her first thought is Percy, but something tells her if it comes down to a fight, they’d need more than range on their side. Although he is damned good in an investigation. 

Percy and Grog, then. That’ll be enough strength, magic, and range between them to handle a little problem, right? With Trinket there, they might even have enough for flanking. Vex takes a moment to be proud of herself, then goes off to find Percy first.

He is, as ever, in his workshop, although he appears to be reading now rather than working on anything in particular. “Knock knock,” she says, clanging on the open metal door.

“Vex,” he says, straightening from his lounging position on the bed. “Hello.”

“I need you for something.”

He narrows his eyes at her suspiciously, tilting his head. “What is it?”

She looks at him quizzically, confused by his sudden guardedness. “A monster thing?”

His face clears. “Ah. I can probably help with that.”

“Yeah, I figured so. Why’d you think I was down here?”

“Ah, I don’t know. Wasn’t sure.” He closes his book and gets to his feet. “What sort of monster, then?”

She shrugs. “Don’t know. Jarett said the locals were talking about it, so I asked around. There’s a hole about a mile out of the city that’s about six feet wide. It’s on a farmer’s property, so he sent one of his hands to fill it, but they never came back. It’s about eight feet deep, but no bodies at the bottom, leads into a tunnel. Took a look at it earlier, figured I’d get more muscle before jumping down.”

“Always wise before going into mysterious holes,” Percy says. “Although I’m not very good in close quarters.”

“That’s why we’re taking Grog, too,” she says. “He’ll fit in the tunnel, I checked.”

“Oh, alright.” He goes to a hook on the wall and retrieves his gun belt, strapping it around his waist. “What about Vax? He usually doesn’t let you out of his sight.”

“He’s busy,” she says. “Got a date.”

Percy blinks at her once. “Date?”

“Gilmore,” she says. “About time, right?”

“Right.” He’s unreadable as he puts on his jacket. “Well, let’s go get Grog and have a look at this hole, then.” 

She lets him go first out into the hall, and decides not to ask why he’s acting weird. Percy’s always acting weird. They head up the stairs together into the dining hall, where Grog sits with Cordell eating beef stew. At least her friends are predictable. “Grog,” she says, putting her hands on the table. “Feel like picking a fight?”

“Yeah!” he growls, reaching for his creepy new greatsword. “Where we goin’?”

“A hole outside the city. Got something in it probably.”

“And we’re gonna go hit it?”

“Yeah, we’re gonna hit it good.”

He looks at Cordell. “It’s been such a good day, I’m telling you. Everything coming up Grog.” 

The guard laughs. “Well, good luck to ya. We’ll keep an eye on things around here.”

“If you see Vax come home before midnight, tell him to go back until he’s done his job right,” Vex says, straightening up. She turns away, just as Jarett enters the hall for his evening dinner. “We’re heading off to pay your wages.”

He grins. “Much obliged. I’m sure the farmers will be thankful.” 

“So will your purse, I’m sure,” she says, and his smile widens as she passes.

“I’ll keep watch for your triumphant return.”

“Don’t wait up for me, darling.”

As soon as they reach the front steps, Percy leans in. “I think he was flirting with you.”

“Everyone always flirts with me, they just can’t help it.” Trinket comes trundling after them from the front grounds, and shoves his head into her side. “You ready to tear into some monster guts, Trink? Are you weady to kill some monster-wonsters? Yes you are!”

“Me, too,” Grog says.

They head out of the keep and down the road that leads to Emon proper, but about two miles from the city, they begin angling to the east. At about half a mile, as the sun begins to set lower on the horizon, Vex casts Pass Without a Trace over their little party, and they approach the hole’s location more quietly. The  _ Warning! Hole! _ sign is right where it was earlier, and still as amusing. The hole, also, is exactly where she left it.

But something feels different. Her ranger-senses are twinging somehow, despite the fact that they seem to be the only ones here. It’s not quite dark yet, she can clearly see the area, but something is here.

She holds up a hand, and her companions stop obediently. She scans the area, looking for tracks, score marks, anything that might tell her what’s here. Then her eyes snap to the base of a bush.

There’s a shoe. 

She draws her bow, and as she does, Percy aims his pistol in the same direction. “Come out, or I shoot,” she says firmly.

“Don’t!” squeaks a little voice, and the leaves shake as a small figure emerges from his hiding place. It’s a boy, maybe eight? Vex is bad with ages. He looks dirty, and like he’s been crying. “Please, don’t shoot me, I’m sorry, I know I’m not supposed to be here.”

Percy instantly puts the gun down, and Vex lowers her arrow. “What are you doing here?” she asks.

He sniffs, and his eyes shine like he’s about to start crying again. “My dad,” he says, pointing at the hole. “He went down there, he’s not come back. Mum keeps asking Mr. Farlow what happened, but he won’t say.”

Oh, no. Vex’s heart breaks a little bit, as it always does for kids who lose parents. The memory of a tragedy like that never truly fades. “We’re going to go down there,” she says. “If your father’s there, we’ll bring him back, I promise.”

“Let me go, too!” he says eagerly. 

“What are you gonna do?” Grog says.

Vex shoots him a look, and says more gently, “It would be safer for you up here, dear.”

“I want to go,” he says. “What if Dad’s hurt? I want to help him, I want to go down!”

“What’s your name?” Percy asks, sinking down to one knee to be more level.

“Andrew.”

“Well, Andrew,” he says. “We’re very good at our jobs, we’ve been doing this for a long time, taken out many, many monsters. But you  _ can _ help us, by staying up here to keep watch. Make sure nothing goes down into the hole after us, not even other people.”

“Percy,” Vex hisses. “What if something comes  _ out _ of the hole?”

“It’ll have to get through us, first,” he says. “We’ll be far more interesting, I guarantee.”

She huffs, but he has a point. It still doesn’t sit right with her to leave a little boy out alone at night like this.

“Look,” he murmurs, tilting his face away from Andrew, “chances are, his mother will come looking before long and take him home anyway. We’ve got bigger problems.”

“You’re right,” she sighs. “Alright, Andrew, do you think you can keep watch?”

“But I want to go down there with you!” he says. “I can do things!”

“You  _ can _ , and you can do them  _ up here _ .” She gives him her sternest look, one she learned from watching Pike deal with Grog. It seems to work, as Andrew concedes.

“Fine,” he says. “How long will you be?”

“Not sure,” says Percy. “I should think a couple of hours, but could be more. Do you think you can do it that long?”

He sticks his chin out resolutely. “Yes.”

“Very good.” Percy claps him on the shoulder, then gets to his feet. “We’ll be back before you know it, don’t worry.”

Vex drops down into the hole first, lighting a torch she brought before stepping into the tunnel. Grog makes the ground shudder behind her, and then Percy brings up the rear.

“Good luck!” calls Andrew, his voice ringing as they step forward into the darkness.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vax goes on a fancy date with a fancy man.

Vax takes a carriage.

He’s never taken a carriage before, because either horses or walking always did him just fine, but tonight he was too worried that walking to the city would ruin his appearance, so he had Erwen summon him a carriage. The look on the little halfling’s face when he realized one of his employers was about to do something _actually fancy_.

He does tell the driver to go ahead and leave before he enters the shop, however, because he doesn’t know what else to do with it and doesn’t want Gilmore to know he doesn’t know what to do. As the sound of clattering hooves and wheels fades, he straightens his jacket, checks the drape of his cloak, and enters Gilmore’s Glorious Goods.

Sherri is at the counter again, and raises her eyebrows as he steps inside. “So that’s why he’s all dressed up,” she says dryly.

“I’m here to take your boss out of your hair for a while,” he says.

She does give a small smile at that, and he can only imagine what it must be like trying to keep up with the energy Gilmore brings to the store. She goes back to the beaded curtain and pokes her head in. “Mr. Gilmore, your appointment is here.”

Gilmore’s silky voice comes floating out of the back room. “Sherri, please, let’s not be so formal.” He steps into view, delicately parting the beads around him. “He’s my date.”

Vax has to catch his breath for a moment. Gilmore has chosen to forgo the ponytale today, and his dark hair hangs to his shoulders in soft waves, as though freshly washed. Two strands of hair wrapped in gold frame his face, and a diamond-studded ring Vax hasn’t seen before glints on his nose.

He’s chosen deep red as his color for tonight, his long kurta patterned with shimmering gold thread and belted with a sash of marbled red and violet. His pants are loose and of a darker shade, the material folding nicely above his flat gold shoes. The kurta is open somewhat at the top, as always, exposing the myriad gold jewelry he so loves to show off.

What makes him truly breathtaking, however, is that he’s looking at Vax as though equally amazed.

“I must say, I’m impressed,” he says, eyes openly roving over Vax.

“I feel underdressed,” he replies.

“Nonsense, you look wonderful.” He holds out his hand. “Shall we?”

With some amount of surprise, Vax puts his hand in Gilmore’s, and is even more surprised when Gilmore dips to kiss it.

“Alright now,” he says, pulling his hand back. “You can’t be showboating like this all evening.”

Gilmore smiles. “What can I say? I like to show off. Come on, our destination isn’t far.”

Vax steps out into the crisp evening air, suddenly feeling… visible. He’s been out with Gilmore before, but that’s been in the middle of a work day when they’ve simply gone to talk at places where people go to talk. Now, he suddenly feels like tonight is all about being _seen_. He’s not used to that.

“Relax,” Gilmore says, and Vax realizes his shoulders have tightened and he’s just automatically avoided the glow of a street lamp. “No need to be sneaky tonight.”

“Old habits,” he says, forcing himself to untense his muscles.

It’s strange, that he’s putting himself in this situation. Not that he doesn’t like Gilmore, or feel comfortable around him, because he absolutely does. This is an opportunity he hadn’t expected, to be able to spend more personal time with him like this. But his lifestyle has been hard, and every fine thing in his possession has come at the price of blood. Much of what he has was hard won, and while he doesn’t particularly want to trade the life he’s had for an easier one, it makes him feel extremely out of place to go on fancy outings with wealthy merchants.

Putting it that way, a younger Vax would have expected to be robbing this man.

And that’s what makes this strange. Tonight is entirely legal and authentic, because Shaun Gilmore asked Vax’ildan on a date, fully aware of what he was doing.

“Have you ever been to the Evening Solstice?” Gilmore asks as they walk.

He shakes his head. “Haven’t heard of it. When we’re in town, we generally stick to the same taverns and shops.”

“Well, you’re in for a treat, then,” he says. “The Solstice is the finest establishment in Emon. I’m told even Uriel himself has patronized it before, though I imagine this is less notable to someone like you.”

Vax gives a huge, overly casual stretch. “Yeah, the king and I, we’re like besties. No big deal.”

Gilmore laughs loudly. “It certainly makes you high-profile customers, I can say that much.” He gestures ahead. “Here. The Evening Solstice.”

Vax looks, and what he sees is a plush, luxurious building of white stone (he can guess where that came from) with large bolts of cloth draping down from the roof to descending rods. The ends of the cloths drape over the lower awning and in front of the open doors, which are mostly obscured by a group of maybe ten people, all dressed in finery, waiting in line. Golden light pours out of the windows and the doorway, and it might just be a trick of the light, but Vax could swear he sees glitter.

“Are we going to be able to get in?” Vax asks, eyeing the small crowd.

Gilmore snorts. “Vax, please. Give me some credit.” He passes right by those in line and to a white podium that stands outside. A woman in a black jacket and trousers stands with a ledger, speaking calmly with one of the people waiting. As Gilmore approaches, she instantly lights up.

“Ah, Mr. Gilmore,” she says in a somewhat nasally accent that Vax doesn’t hear too often.

“Sera,” he says, opening his arms wide in his usual greeting. “Is my table ready?”

“We’ve kept it clear for you, sir, come on in.” She picks up her ledger and leads them through the doors, into the interior ten times as magnificent as the exterior.

White plush furniture crowds the dining room, clustered around tables of shining, dark oak. Servers in black navigate smoothly through the patrons with platters and bottles and carafes, and patrons lounge upon the comfortable seats in all manner of silks and satins and velvets. The walls are covered in more rich fabrics, interrupted only by the silver sconces that hold bulbs of perpetual flame. A magnificent chandelier hangs from the ceiling with many, smaller bulbs, and strands of crystals drape away from it to catch the light.

Sera guides them through the room to a table on the far side, which has only two of the soft white chairs and is set somewhat away from the others. It’s lucky Vax is light on his feet, or he fears he would certainly have ruined someone’s dinner in trying to get through.

“Gil,” he murmurs.

“Yes?”

“Why?”

He merely laughs, and thanks Sera as she pulls their chairs out for them. Vax doesn’t feel comfortable enough to sit yet, but figures it would be worse if he remained standing in a room full of sitting people.

“Because,” Gilmore says, as soon as they’re left alone for a moment, “I wanted to show you.”

“Show me?” he says.

“How I feel you ought to be treated.”

Vax looks around at all the finery, and doesn’t think he’s ever been in a place so nice for any honest reason. “I really don’t need all of this,” he says.

“Of course not, no one does,” he chuckles, reaching for a glass that’s already full of water. “That’s what spoiling is all about, isn’t it? Doing the unnecessary to the fullest extent possible.”

“It’s all… a lot,” he says, doing his best not to sound ungrateful and fearing he’s failing.

Gilmore reaches for his hand, and squeezes it once. “Allow me,” he says, “to treat you well. It’s part of my own enjoyment.”

Vax sighs, and makes himself relax again. He can not make a fool of himself for one night.

One of the servers comes to the table, an elegantly mustachioed man, and offers them wine. Gilmore has a highly specific order for a vintage Vax has never heard of, but is soon regretting that he hasn’t. The server fills their goblets with dark purple liquid, and Vax sees Gilmore grinning at him as he tries it. It’s not the Thistlebranch wine they gifted to a dwarven lord in Kraghammer, but it is very, very close.

“What are you serving tonight?” Gilmore asks as Vax continues to revel in all the subtle flavors.

“The specialty tonight is a seafood platter, sir,” says the server. “It includes sauteed octopus, steamed shrimp and clams, and a variety of raw wrapped fish, as well as a number of sauces. If this is not to your taste, we have roast beef and chicken dinners instead.”

Gilmore looks to Vax. “Do you have a preference?”

“I live off of roasted meats. Let’s try the seafood,” he says.

The server gives a nod. “Dinner rolls will be brought out shortly.”

Then they’re left alone again for a bit. It’s nice, watching as Gilmore eases back into his seat with his goblet in hand. He looks like he fits, like he’s just ready for an artist to come along and paint his portrait. Vax imagines the carefully chosen colors, custom mixed to truly capture Gilmore’s skintone. He thinks of the delicate brush strokes over the chest to bring out the shine of the gold embroidery. He thinks of how no painting could ever capture the unique beauty of the man before him.

“What?” Gilmore says, eyeing him suspiciously.

“Just thinking,” he says.

“What about?”

He pauses. “Painting you.”

Gilmore raises an eyebrow. “Do you paint?”

“I don’t,” Vax laughs. “But now I wish I did.”

“I could pose for you later.”

He snorts. “Would you, now?”

Gilmore merely smiles, winks, and drinks his wine.

“So, tell me, Gil,” Vax says, setting his goblet on the table. “Dates. What are they, what do people do? Last time I was in a place like this, I ended up in the sewers fighting a rakshasa.”

“That generally doesn’t happen,” says Gilmore, but he looks thoughtful. “Usually, on dates, you take the object of your interest somewhere nice, to prove your interest. Then you talk about yourselves for a bit, compliment each other a lot, and if the night goes well, there may be talk of another date.”

Vax narrows his eyes at Gilmore’s playful tone. “That sounds too simple.”

“Oh, it’s as fraught with danger as anything else,” he says. “You might say the wrong thing, or tip the octopus over, and then it’s all down the drain from there.”

“If you tipped the octopus over,” Vax says, “I would still eat it.”

Gilmore hesitates. “You _shouldn’t_ ,” he says.

“It’s expensive and I’ve eaten much worse.”

“It’s still inadvisable to do so in a setting like this.”

“And I can’t imagine you ever saying a wrong word to anyone in your life.”

Gilmore smiles. “Well, on that, we must disagree.”

Vax shakes his head. “Lies. Not possible.”

“Everyone has their off days, my friend. Most, I learn from and let go.” He meets Vax’s eyes. “Others, I would regret terribly.”

Vax cocks his head at him, sensing that Gilmore carries a guilt for something he can’t fathom. “Gilmore, I’ve enjoyed every conversation I’ve ever had with you. I thought that was clear from how I continue to come back for more.”

He attempts a smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I regret pointing out your marks the other day,” he says. “It was unnecessary and out of line. I’m normally better about minding my manners.”

Vax ponders this for a moment. The mention of it doesn’t heat his cheeks like it did yesterday, mostly because he made Pike get rid of the lasting evidence so he knows he’s clean now. That Gilmore is bringing it up again, though, and that he seems truly regretful, makes him curious. “Why did you?” he asks.

He shrugs, looking about as though for the answer. “I know you’re not the type to visit brothels on a whim. It was surprising, and I….” He trails off, then sighs. “I suppose, loath as I am to admit, there may have been a hint of jealousy. The word feels so strong, I hate to use it -- I wasn’t upset, I just….”

It’s rare, extraordinarily rare, for Gilmore to not have words. Vax softens entirely, and reaches out to touch Gilmore’s hand. “It isn’t something I do often,” he says. “And the other night was… difficult, for me. I won’t say it was a mistake, but I certainly wasn’t thinking clearly at the time. I don’t want you to think poorly of me.”

Gilmore waves his free hand, shaking his head. “No, no, of course not. How could I? But… well, if someone you cared about showed signs of being with someone else, would that not stir some feelings within you?”

Vax thinks about how Keyleth looked at him yesterday morning, then immediately drives the thought from his head. “I can imagine,” he says.

“Anyway,” Gilmore says, pulling away as he lounges in his chair again. “Enough of this sort of talk, we’re in public and we’re having fun.”

Vax smiles softly, almost fondly. “You know I never shy from matters of the heart.”

“No, you don’t,” he emphatically agrees, and leaves it at that.

Their food arrives, and the platter is enormous. After having attended a number of feasts thrown in Vox Machina’s honor and others, this is more familiar territory for Vax. However, he’s still surprised at the sheer amount of food bestowed on just two people. There’s easily enough here for four, maybe five if they’re not all that hungry. The raw wrapped fish circles the outside of the platter like little hors d'oeuvres, and the heavily buttered shrimp, scallops, and clams take up the second ring. The center is dominated by a small octopus, which sits steaming and smelling heavily of fish and spices.

“Ah, it’s like we’ve gone all the way to the Menagerie Coast,” Gilmore says, almost dreamily, as he takes a small fork and begins pulling bits of fish to his plate.

“Have you been there?” Vax asks.

“For a short while once, yes. Nicodranas is a gorgeous city with many gorgeous people. If you get the chance to go there in your travels, I’d highly recommend it.”

Vax loves the sound of the city name in Gilmore’s mouth. The accent comes easily to him, and he has to remind himself that although his speech has adapted perfectly to Tal’dorei, Gilmore is originally from Marquet, and his tongue has a much easier time over those rolled r’s and lingering n’s. He then wonders, briefly, if Gilmore still speaks his native language, and if he might get to hear it.

Their meal passes in calm conversation and few moments of awkwardness. Vax can be an impassioned orator when the chips are down, but in casual settings, he knows he often comes off too strong. Gilmore is the perfect counterpart to this, being a man who knows how to salvage any situation to work to both parties’ benefit. He is especially good at it tonight, and Vax gets the feeling that while all of this looks effortless on the outside, Gilmore is genuinely doing his best to make the night a wonderful one.

He does learn a few things: that Gilmore’s family name was originally Giddmore, but was adapted to fit the Tal’dorei tongue. That he’s a Runechild sorcerer, and his magical prowess comes down from a long line of magical people. Vax talks briefly about his own family -- his mother, and what she had been like in life, and his father, a much less interesting individual needing very little description. Gilmore seems to sense that both of these subjects are less than comfortable ones, and turns the conversation towards how Vox Machina had been formed instead.

“In bits and pieces,” Vax says. “We sort of came across people in groups. Pike saved Grog, and Grog saved Pike, so they traveled around for a bit. Then there’s my sister and I, of course, getting by however we could. We met Keyleth first, being from the same city, and then met up with Grog and Pike, and we all sort of found Percy about the same time. It started as a way to just make sure we always had money, but in reaching Emon, we started to stumble over more important things.”

“And we’re all the better for it,” Gilmore says, raising his goblet slightly. “Emon continues to be in your debt.”

“Well, sometimes we like to just be people,” Vax says.

Gilmore smiles. “Then, by all means,” he says, “I welcome you to just be a person with me.”

It’s an odd invitation, but the meaning behind it gives Vax a warm feeling. It isn’t his accomplishments and titles that attract Gilmore to him, and he doesn’t need to play them up to earn any favor.

It brings to mind, suddenly, the memory of being in Gilmore’s shop recently while he was away, and as soon as Sherri had sent a message that Vax was in town, Gilmore had dropped absolutely everything to come spend time with him. For some reason, Vax had continued to chalk it up to Gilmore’s interest in Vox Machina as an opportunity to expand his brand. He knows better, has known for a while that Gilmore cares for them a bit more honestly than that, but the gesture had seemed too big. But now, finally on a date with the man, he wonders if he made Gilmore think it wasn’t big enough.

They remain at their table long after the meal is finished and picked over, sipping wine and regaling one another with stories of travel and excitement. Gilmore may not be an adventurer, but he’s certainly gotten into his fair share of unbelievable situations and close calls. One doesn’t simply become a sorcerer of his caliber without a bit of danger, after all. Vax finds himself laughing so hard his sides hurt, the wine making his head warm and fuzzy and fingertips tingly. And he’s _happy_. This is a relief of another kind, a relief that he doesn’t regret, and probably won’t regret in the morning. A relief that Gilmore is providing, free of charge, because it makes them both happy.

“Well, anyway,” Gilmore says, his laughter tapering off as he swirls the last of his wine around in his goblet. “I think it’s about time we take our leave.”

“It’s late,” Vax agrees, even though he’s _so_ comfortable now. Gilmore calls over the server to settle their bill, then they both heave themselves somewhat unsteadily out of their chairs and make their way out of the Evening Solstice.

It’s fully dark now when they step outside, but the cheery glow of lanterns and businesses keeps their path well lit. Vax casually bumps against Gilmore’s side as they walk, because it feels like a properly affectionate thing to do. Gilmore responds by taking his hand and clasping it in his own. Vax blushes and tries to hide it.

For the first time ever, he experiences a sinking feeling as they approach Gilmore’s Glorious Goods. It means the date is over, and he’ll have to go home and say goodbye for now, not knowing when they’ll get another opportunity like this.

It seems Gilmore can sense his hesitation. He looks over and squeezes Vax’s hand. “So, about that second date….”

Vax tries for a smile. “You know I would, Gil. I’d go anywhere you asked me to go at any ti-”

He’s cut off as Gilmore suddenly puts a hand to the back of his head and draws him in for a kiss. It’s not rough at all, no teeth, just surprising. His lips are soft and pliant as he pulls gently at Vax’s lip, tasting of wine and garlic. After some hesitation, Vax lifts his hands to cup Gilmore’s face and puts himself into it.

He’s thought about this for a _long_ time. And he’s danced around it for so long, that somehow he hadn’t expected the night to end with a kiss at all, much less one as deep and longing as this. And the longing is not just from him, as Gilmore keeps his hand firm, and uses the other to draw Vax in by the waist. Clearly, he’s been waiting for this just as long, if not longer.

It’s Vax who finally breaks away, the air rushing out of him and his already dizzy head becoming almost faint. He looks into Gilmore’s dark eyes, trying to remember what language is supposed to sound like.

“I couldn’t help myself,” Gilmore says quietly. “Wouldn’t have forgiven myself if I’d let you go, again, without doing that.”

Vax attempts a nod, still starry-eyed. “I -- erm, yes. Good.”

Gilmore’s mouth curves up in a smile. “I thought about inviting you in….”

Vax thinks about it now, too, and it terrifies him. He clears his throat. “Erm… I would like that… at some point. But I think tonight we should….”

“Not have too much of a good thing?” Gilmore chuckles and moves back just enough to give them some breathing room. “I understand. I know I tend to have trouble mitigating my indulgences.”

Vax looks him over for a moment, then leans in to give a shorter, more chaste kiss. “We have to leave something to look forward to, don’t we?”

“With you? There’s always something to look forward to.” A somewhat dreamy quality enters his eyes and voice, and he shifts his hands to squeeze Vax’s. “We’ll schedule something again. I know it won’t be long before you all return to my shop. If I’m not there, just have Sherri send for me, I’ll be back before you have a moment to miss me.”

It saddens him somewhat that he might have to wait until the team’s next shopping trip to see Gilmore again, but, as Gilmore said, sometimes it’s good to temper indulgences. He’d go to bed with the man tonight, but it would seem wrong somehow, particularly after the way he handled Percy. It needs to be special, and he needs to wait for the right moment.

So he takes one of Gilmore’s hands and raises it to his lips. “Good night, Gil,” he says.

“Good night, Vax,” he says. “I’ll think of you until next we meet.”

“And I, you.” Vax watches him go inside, the closed sign on the door swinging slightly. He’s sad that it’s over, but his heart is light and soaring in his chest. After checking that no one is around to see, he punches the air with a loud whoop, and turns to start his long, ambling trek back to Greyskull Keep.

The elation doesn’t last.

As he reaches the front gate, preparing to tell his sister about the happiness he’s found for the first time in a long while, he’s greeted immediately by a tight-faced Jarett.

“Lord Vax,” he says, hands securely on his crossbow, “I need to speak with you.”

Vax tries to shake off some of the tired tipsiness he’s feeling. “Something wrong?”

He nods shortly. “Yesterday, I brought a matter of what I thought was minor importance to your sister. A hole in the ground with a possibly dangerous creature inside. Tonight, she left with Grog and Lord Percival to investigate, and I’m becoming concerned that they haven’t come back yet.”

Vax cocks his head. It’s unusual that the guards get nervous about them like this. Laina, yes, but their security staff is generally aware that they provide protection for the keep, not so much for its owners. “They might have just gone to a tavern to celebrate a victory. Hell, we didn’t go collect our reward for going into the Underdark until weeks after we’d completed the job.”

Jarett still looks uncertain. “You may be right,” he says carefully. “But they left before you did around six o’clock this evening. I had expected them to be back by now, but Lady Keyleth and Lady Pike left some time ago for the temple district, and Scanlan also did not seem concerned. I thought I might at least bring it to your attention.”

He thinks it over for a moment. There is a chance that, by bringing the hole problem to Vex, Jarett feels some amount of responsibility over when they return. Vax also knows that many things they’ve done that seemed simple on the surface very rarely have been. “You said she only had Grog and Percy?” he asks, and receives a nod in return. He takes a breath. “Alright. I’m going to go get my things together. I want you to go get Scanlan, and then take us to wherever my sister went.”

Jarett looks almost relieved that someone is trying to do something about his fears. “Right away, sir,” he says with a nod, and the two walk at a clipped pace up the walk to the keep.

If he needs to go rescue his sister, it seems like the only fitting way to end the night.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vex's monster problem becomes a little more complicated than she thought. Vax to the rescue.

The tunnel doesn’t seem to have an end. Every so often, Vex will hand the torch off to Grog so she can sneakily scout ahead a bit, like her brother does, but it just keeps going on and on. The walls are unusually smooth, though, and with a shiver, she’s reminded of the umberhulks down in the Underdark. If that’s what waits for them, she’s hoping Grog and Percy will be enough for backup. Those don’t tend to surface this far, though, so likely, hopefully, it’s something else.

On one of her scouting ventures, the hand she has on the wall gives way as the tunnel opens up. She freezes, listening hard, but hears nothing except for a faint bubbling. No signs of life, however. “Grog,” she hisses, looking back down the tunnel at the light source. Steadily, it draws closer, and he stands beside her with the torch, looking into the chamber she found.

It’s largely empty, just a carved out section before the tunnel continues on ahead, but the smell is utterly foul here. The source appears to be a rapidly decomposing carcass of some animal, a cow probably, in the corner lying in a pool of acid.

“Oh, god,” Percy says, raising a sleeve to his nose.

“Digestive juices, I think,” Vex says, crouching by the bones to look. “Whatever we’re dealing with likes its meal to be good and dead.”

“And mushy,” Grog says.

“I’ll bet it’s making itself a network around here,” Percy says. “This was its last stop before heading topside. I don’t know if that means it’s out and about now, or deeper in.”

“Well, let’s find out,” Vex says, dusting off her hands as she straightens up. Trinket moans and brushes his nose at the smell, and is all too ready to follow when she continues down the tunnel.

This section only goes another thirty feet or so before opening to another chamber. A wet chewing sound reaches her ears before Grog draws level with the torch, and then she sees it.

A massive bug-like creature about as tall as Grog and twice as long is curled at one side of this room, a somewhat humanoid body clutched in its claws. As the light hits it, it screeches mightily, throws down its prey, and dives into the dirt floor.

“Oh, shit,” Vex says, hearing Percy’s pistol cock just behind her.

“Make way, Trinket and me get the front,” Grog says, tossing the torch to a corner as he shoulders through. Vex is happy enough to let him while she draws several arrows out of her quiver. Probably best to leave the explosive ones alone for now, though.

After several seconds of tense silence, the ground begins to tremble, then erupts just in front of Grog’s feet as the creature explodes upward. It rakes its claws over his chest, scoring the skin, but it only serves to make Grog angrier as he growls and raises his sword.

Vex releases an arrow that skates off the creature’s tough exoskeleton, Percy fires a shot that misses, and Grog swings hard with his sword, biting into some bug meat. Trinket takes the opportunity to bite off a limb as the creature screams.

It’s not enough to kill it yet, however. It rears back away from Grog, then fires a deluge of green, foul-smelling liquid at them. It covers Grog and Trinket and splashes back towards Vex. The liquid eats away at the skin of her face and arms, but she bares her teeth and snarles through it, firing another arrow. This one hits it in one of its many eyes, quickly followed by Percy doing the same. It reels for a moment, its remaining legs clawing at its bleeding face, then it surges forward and tackles Grog.

“Oh, no you don’t!” he growls, breaking its hold as it tries to bite at him. Trinket makes a running charge, slamming into the beast to get it away from Grog. The goliath takes the opportunity to swing his sword again, once, twice, three times, sinking deep into the creature each time he does, seeming to almost glow.

It spews acid again, then plunges into the earth while everyone desperately tries to shake the dissolving bile from their clothes. The rumbling begins, and then Vex is launched forward as the creature emerges nearly underneath her. Grog instantly steps between her and the bug as she skids to a stop on the floor. It faces him, screeching a battle cry.

Just as Grog raises his sword, ready to meet its charge, its face explodes outward. It crumples to the ground, and behind the body stands Percy with his smoking gun.

“Everyone alright?” he pants.

Trinket moves over to Vex and allows her to use him to stand. “We’ve had worse,” she says. The acid certainly isn’t fun, though.

“It’s an ankheg,” Percy says, nudging the corpse with his foot. “I’ve come across one or two before, it could have wreaked a lot of havoc on the local livestock.”

“Do they travel in packs?” Grog asks.

“Not that I know of.”

Vex moves over to the body the thing had been eating, grimacing. “Andrew’s not going to be happy.”

Percy joins her and frowns. “Should we try to bring him back up?”

“Not much left to bury,” she says.

“Any loot?” says Grog.

She turns to him. “You can pick apart that bug, if you’re so interested.”

He points to a corner. “What about that?”

She looks to see a collection of items shoved amid discarded bones and bits of fur, then grabs the torch off the floor and walks over to it. “Here’s… a clump of gold,” she says, withdrawing a cluster of half-melted gold pieces. “That looks like a healing potion.”

“Any weapons? Pointy things?”

“No, that’s all that’s in here, could have been from the farmer.” She gets to her feet, slipping the healing potion into her bag. “You can cut the head off that thing, though, and we can use it to collect the bounty.”

Grog happily sets to the task, sawing away at the carcass with his massive sword.

“Hey!”

Vex freezes, whirling to look at the tunnel entrance. Barely visible in the flickering glow of the torch, the face of young Andrew peers out at the four of them. “Did you do it? Did you find my dad?”

Her heart plummets down to her toes, and Percy nervously moves to block Andrew’s view of the body. “Ah, no, Andrew, he’s…. We were too late.”

Confusion crosses the boy’s face first, then it crumples. “What?”

Vex moves across the room to kneel in front of him. “Where’s your mum, sweetie?” she says, taking him by the shoulder. “She must be missing you by now. We’ll take you back to her.”

“She was killed.”

Vex’s eyes go wide, and the boys are being terribly awkward and uncomfortable behind her. “How? By the same creature?”

“No,” he sniffs, then looks her in the eye. Something strange flashes in his face. “She was killed by adventurers like you.”

She has only a split second to be confused before something sharp stabs her in the side, and her whole body seizes up. Before her eyes, the boy morphs into something larger, a man, but not quite a man. Its body is gray and ghoulish, eyes flat and sunken. Grog gives a cry from behind, but the thing makes several more throwing motions, and Vex hears her friends and her bear all hit the ground as well.

“Incredible,” the thing hisses, a long tongue snaking in and out of its mouth. “I just have to put a bug in your way, and all of you murderers come running. Big ones, too. I’d better get started, it’s going to take me some time to move all of you. But that’s alright.” Its yellow eyes peer down at Vex, its foot nudging her. “You’re not going anywhere for a long while.”

\-----

“Why don't we ever investigate the fun kind of holes?” Scanlan complains as he jumps down into the eight foot hole behind Vax and Jarret.

Vax crouches down, studying the prints and patterns on the ground. “Trinket's pawprints,” he says, pointing to some depressions in the dirt. “They only go in. If they came out, they didn't go this way.”

“Or they're still down there,” Jarett says quietly.

Vax chooses to reserve his judgement for when he knows for sure. He moves ahead of the group and keeps an ear out for sounds.

They eventually come upon an open space, with nothing in it but a half-dissolved cow. “The monster's lunch,” Vax says

“Do you think it dissolves them before or after they're dead?” Scanlan asks. A beat later, he says, “Nevermind, I don't want the answer.”

After confirming that their friends seem to have passed through here unchallenged, they continue on quietly.

Then Vax holds up a hand to stop his companions, the air fouling further as the space before them widens.

There are definitely signs if a fight here, as a giant insect carcass lies on the ground just in front of the tunnel. Its head lies a foot away, and there are numerous patches of steaming bile to avoid on the ground. Vax carefully circumvents the mess, studying the ground intently.

“Vax,” says Jarett, pausing his progress to the other side of the room. He stoops and picks up a broken arrow, unmistakable to Vax's eyes.

“They were definitely here,” he says, looking around at the mess. A body lies mangled and half dissolved in the corner, but it isn't any of his friends. “Maybe they did leave once they finished.”

“As much as I hate to say it, no, they didn't,” Scanlan says, looking with distaste at the dead creature. “The head's still here. If they'd left, they would have taken it back to claim the bounty.”

“Then where are they?” he asks to the room at large, looking around for any other exit. There are holes in the floor, but it looks like those were simply tunneled for defence during the fight. He lightly touches his earring, murmuring, “Vex? Are you there? Percy? Grog?” Nothing. Either they’re out of range, or they’re unable to talk.

Jarett starts walking around the perimeter of the room, keeping his hand on the wall as though looking for a secret door. Vax moves to do the same on his side, when suddenly Jarett's foot sinks deep into the floor and he lets out a yelp. “Found something,” he says, shaking his foot out of the loose dirt.

“Wait, I got this,” Scanlan says, and with a whirl of his hands, an enormous Bigby's Hand emerges. Jarett hustles out of the way as the hand dives for the ground and starts pulling at the loose dirt, revealing a hole that goes downward diagonally where the wall meets the floor.

“You think they went down there?” Vax says. “And then covered the passage back up?”

Jarett shrugs. “There may have been more of these monsters, or maybe there was something else down here.”

“Oh, good. So either it's the big acid puking thing, or a wild card,” Scanlan says.

Vax grimaces, not liking where this is going. “It's our only available direction besides back the way we came,” he concedes.

“Well, the way we came isn't out of the question either.”

“I'll go first,” Jarett volunteers.

“Thank you, but, how about I do that,” says Vax, moving towards the new hole. “I've got better eyes.”

“Fair enough.” He shifts away, letting Vax go first, then follows close behind. Scanlan heaves a heavy sigh, then slides in after them.

It isn't steep, despite its tilted nature, but it is inclined enough that Vax's boots slide a bit on the earth. After some time, the tunnel begins to level out, and right about then, he begins to hear a voice.

“....won't struggle. I know your kind, I know you very well. I’ve gotten very good at making sure you don’t get away from me.”

_That doesn't sound good_ , Vax thinks. “Vex, can you hear me?” Still nothing. He must be close, though, so either she lost the earring, or something is keeping her from talking. He holds up a hand for Scanlan and Jarett to stop, then creeps forward silently until he comes to the mouth of the tunnel.

Another room, larger than the last, is alight with a fire blazing beneath a cooking pot. No one is tending the pot, though, and he can't see much in the room other than piles of bones and something large and lumpy in the far corner, though in too much shadow to see clearly. The floor is about a foot lower than the mouth of the tunnel, and he's about to step down to look around more when a hand grabs his wrist.

A knife is in his hand in an instant, but the fear in his chest gives way to relief when he sees the face of his sister. “Vex, what happened?”

“Shhh,” she hisses. “There's another one of those creatures still down here, it carried Grog and Percy away.”

“Why didn't you answer me when I called you?”

She cocks her head. “Called me?”

He taps his ear. “The earring.”

“Oh, I had to be quiet,” she says. “This thing moves through the floor, it listens for any kind of noise.”

His already tentative grasp of the situation is fading. If she’s talking about another bug creature, then who the hell was talking just now? “What about Trinket?” Vax asks. “Is he with you?”

“Hm? Oh, no, the thing got him like the others,” she says, waving a hand.

Vax stops cold and stares at her. If Trinket had been taken to be some monster's meal, that would have been the _first_ thing out of his sister's mouth, before ever even mentioning Grog or Percy. And the information would have come with a lot more fury or fear, not the flippancy with which she'd just spoken. If anything so much as nudged that bear the wrong way, Vex would lose her entire shit.

He doesn’t know what’s talking to him right now, but it’s not his sister.

“Do you know where the creature went?” he asks in as calm a voice as he can manage.

She nods. “That way, I think, come on.”

Before stepping fully into the room, he puts a hand to his earring. “Scanlan, I've found Vex. She says Trinket was taken by the monster, but she's not too worried about it. We're going to go looking. You stay back.” Then he follows whatever this thing is, hoping his friends get the message.

He keeps a wary eye on her the entire time. She leads him around the fire, on the opposite side of those lumps he noticed earlier, to another tunnel.

“You go first,” she says.

He looks at her. “Why?”

“Because you’re sneakier,” she says.

He narrows his eyes, unsure just how much this thing knows about them and why. This is quite obviously how it plans to make its attack, so as he passes her to step into the tunnel, he subtly pulls his poisoned dagger from its sheath and keeps it ready.

As soon as he steps into a space of mostly shadow, he feels hot breath on the back of his neck.

“Now,” says a voice that definitely isn’t his sister’s, “think very hard about where the rest of your friends are.”

Vax whirls around, bringing up his dagger. The creature is no longer at all human, its leathery gray skin offset only by glowing yellow eyes. It snarls at him, baring sharp teeth and a long, snaking tongue. Vax goes for that first, since it seems like an easy target. He doesn’t land the hit, having to dodge out of the way of the knives that it carries.

Then it surges forward as though struck, and whirls around to face the room. A crossbow bolt sticks out of its back. Vax takes advantage of its distraction to plunge a dagger into its back as well, and it hisses and snarls in agony.

Scanlan’s musical voice echoes around the chamber, reciting a poem about how the creature is so ugly it must pretend to be someone else to get anyone to look at it. Vax doesn’t think the words are all that nasty, but the doppleganger’s reaction is certainly a wounded one. He kicks out, shoving the thing several feet forward, and then they’re all out in the light.

Vax keeps it busy with his daggers, even though the creature seems to know its way around blades as well, and Scanlan does his job blasting it with whatever he’s got. Jarett only fires one bolt, then moves along the wall to the lumpy pile in the corner. Vax dares to look over, knowing it must be his friends and hoping they’re not corpses. It’s a second too long, as he feels the biting pain of a knife slicing through his side.

But this is no normal knife, he realizes too late as a paralyzing feeling spreads rapidly through his limbs. The doppleganger smiles as he collapses to the ground, until a bolt sinks firmly into its neck. It screams, clutching at the bolt, but is cut short as a second flies through its open mouth. It collapses to the ground, unmoving.

“Damn those things,” Jarett curses.

“Are they alive?” asks Scanlan, and Vax can hear him moving across the room.

“They’re alive, but they’re paralyzed. We can probably move the twins and Percival easy enough, but Grog and Trinket will be more difficult.”

“I mean, we could always just leave the bear.”

There’s the sound of a fist hitting flesh, then Scanlan’s indignant cry.

“Oh, it must be wearing off,” Jarett says.

“Scanlan,” Vex says, her teeth gritted and voice sounding slurred. “I’ll kill you.”

“You’ll have to catch me first.”

As more movement is heard from the corner, Vax tries desperately to move any one of his limbs, but nothing. Shivers wrack his body uncontrollably, and the cut on his side stings like a bitch, but he can’t move. It could have been hours since Vex and the others were paralyzed, he may have no hope for the next while.

After several minutes, his sister’s face looms into view as she drags herself across the floor to him. “Vax, are you alright? Brother?”

He cannot, of course, speak, but he tries to keep his eyes moving so she knows he’s still there. Someone, probably Jarett, moves him so that he’s propped against the wall and can actually see things. Percy sits against the far wall, rubbing the feeling back into his wrists and ankles, while Grog angrily stretches and makes faces to wake his facial muscles. Trinket groans and rolls on the floor.

“It’s lucky the rest of you are coming back to it,” Jarett says to Vex. “We should get out of here as quickly as we can, I don’t want to find out what else is living under the ground here.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” she says, smacking her foot on the ground a few times. “Urgh, it’s all pins and needles, all over my body. Fuck that guy.”

“He certainly didn’t like you very much.” Jarett puts one arm under Vax’s shoulders and hauls him up, then Vex offers support from the other side.

“So I’m guessing it was my worrier brother’s idea to come looking for us when we stayed out past curfew?” Vex says.

Vax internally smiles to himself, because for once in his life, he’s _not_ the one to blame.

“Ah, no,” Jarett says awkwardly. “The idea was… mine.”

“Oh.” He can practically hear the gears in his sister’s brain spinning to avoid insulting the head of their guard. “Well, it’s a good thing you did.”

“A very good thing,” Percy agrees as they begin to head out the exit tunnel. “I genuinely thought this stupid farmer problem was going to be the thing that killed me. After everything we just did, I was going to die in a hole as some monster’s lunch.”

“Speaking of which, we should probably pick up the head of that other monster up there,” Grog says. “I’ll be fucked if I don’t at least get some gold out of all this.”

“That can be your job,” Scanlan says with distaste.

Slowly but surely, the party manages to make its way through the tunnels and back to the original hole in the Farlow farm, though there are moments when Vex and Jarett have to carefully maneuver Vax through narrower stretches. Grog climbs out first, being the tallest, and is the one who drags Vax (none-too-gently) back up to the surface. It’s utterly infuriating to be unable to move or answer back when he says stupid comments he thinks are perfectly smart.

But at least the danger is over for now. Though it’s quite dark and they still have a long walk back to the keep, they’re back in civilized territory where creepy things tend to jump out a lot less. And despite the extended paralysis, Vex and the others appear only minorly injured, which eases many of Vax’s worries. They still came out alright, in the end. No job is worth taking without a few close calls, after all.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The twins recover from the fight in the hole, and then everyone gets paid and goes shopping.

While Grog and Percy go to see what’s left of dinner in the dining hall, Vex and Jarett continue to haul her brother up the stairs. “He’s heavier than he looks,” Jarett says when they’re about halfway up.

“His ears still work, you know.”

“I know.”

She snorts. “It’ll be good for him, not being able to fling himself into danger for a few hours.”

“You’re one to talk,” Jarett says, glancing at her.

“Excuse me,” she says, raising an eyebrow. “Who’s idea was it to go into that danger? I’m certain it wasn’t mine.”

“Fair, that’s fair.” He grunts slightly as he adjusts his hold on Vax, then opens up the door to Vax’s room. “We should probably get a healer up here, though, just to be safe.”

“Is Pike around?”

“I’ll have to see if she and Lady Keyleth have returned.”

Together, they lay Vax down on his bed, and Vex takes a moment to try spreading his limbs out so he won’t be so cramped when the feeling comes back. “Close your eyes. It’s creepy when you’re just staring at me like that.”

Vax does not, and instead makes a point to stare directly at her at all times. She sighs, then turns to Jarett. “Thank you,” she says, a bit formally. “I know it’s not your job to go running after us when we’re away too long. If you did that every time, you’d probably wind up halfway across the world.”

“I use my judgement,” he says. “I know you don’t leave the city without your full party. I realize that my being right doesn’t absolve my actions of foolishness, but-”

“Of course it does,” she says. “You were right, Jarett, enjoy it. Rub it in everyone’s faces. Ask for a raise.”

He smiles widely. “Alright, may I have a raise?”

“You can have a bonus,” she offers. “Half of the bounty.”

He blanches. “You’re crazy, you almost died for that money.”

She waves a hand. “I was going to use it to pay the staff anyway. Leaves me the rest of my own money to spend how I like.” 

“I appreciate the offer, truly, but I cannot accept so much of a reward for your deeds.”

She gives him a hard look, unable to believe her ears. The polite thing is usually to refuse once, then accept a gift. It doesn’t sound like Jarett is merely being polite, however. He truly dislikes the thought of taking too much money from his employer. 

She could kiss him right now.

“I insist on at least a little extra,” she says. “You killed a doppleganger for us, and it wasn’t even in the keep. I’m not giving you a raise, so you should take what you can get.”

He gives a tired, exasperated smile, half rolling his eyes. “If you  _ insist _ , then fine,” he says. “I will take your gold.”

“Good.” She lightly pats his cheek, then turns away. “I’ll go find Pike and stay with my brother tonight. You should go get some sleep.”

“Vex’ahlia.”

She pauses at the door to look at him. The smile is gone, replaced by a somewhat guilty expression. “I am sorry that you were put in danger on my request. I should have let you enjoy your time off.”

She takes a breath, knowing flippant words aren’t going to convince him of anything. “We get in trouble all the time for much worse reasons,” she says. “If I’d wanted to simply relax at the keep, I’d have done it. I like to keep busy. Don’t be sorry.” 

He nods. “As you wish. Good night, Vex’ahlia.”

“Good night, Jarett.” She exits the room, heading off in search of their gnome cleric.

\---

It’s around six in the morning, and Vex has dozed off in a cushioned chair when she hears a groan from the bed. She stirs instantly, and sees Vax sticking one leg all the way up in the air. “Shake it off, brother,” she says groggily. “Those pins and needles will be there for hours.” 

“Jarett,” he groans, and her brow furrows. 

“He’s not here, darling, he’s asleep,” she says, getting to her feet. He’s starting to sound like he may be a little feverish. 

“Jarett,” he says again, and she realizes he must be just waking as well as coming out of the paralysis. The pins and needles feeling probably woke him. “He’s….”

“What, darling?” she says gently. “Do you want me to go get him?”

Vax sticks one of his arms up, flexing it for a moment before latching onto her shoulder. “Vex, Jarett….”

“Yes?”

“He wants... to give you the dick.”

She shoves him away as he weakly cackles, retreating back to the safety of her chair. “Should have left you down there,” she says, crossing her arms. “You’re clearly feeling chatty, so go on, tell me about your date.”

“It was better than what followed,” he says.

“I’ll take that as good news.”

He exhales somewhat painfully, clenching and extending his fingers and toes. “We went to a nice place, and we talked for a long time. It was nice.”

“You still wound up back at the keep before midnight,” she says.

He narrows his eyes at her. “He’s a  _ gentleman _ .”

“And you’ve been toying with that man for nearly a year, and just let him go with dinner and a chat.”

“I don’t have to tell you anything if you’re going to be snarky about it.” He manages to make himself sit up, then Vex just passively watches as he rolls off the bed and collapses on the floor. 

“Do you need anything, brother?” she asks.

“I’m fine.” A hand appears to grip the bed, then Vax hauls himself upright and sits down again. “This is your fault, you know.”

“You could have ignored Jarett and left me down there,” she says. “But you just love me  _ so much _ .”

“I  _ do _ ,” he says emphatically. “And it lands me in such unfortunate situations.”

“We can go see Gilmore when you’ve recovered,” she sings.

Vax takes a breath, then lies back sideways on the bed. “Do you think that’s too soon?”

“Do you?”

He’s quiet for a moment. “I want to. But I know he’s busy.”

She gives him an almost pitying look. “He’s never too busy for you, dear.”

“I’m not going to start being desperate for his attention now that we’ve confirmed an interest.” He reaches his arms up, then curls them in, repeating the motion several times as he thinks. “How about breakfast first?”

Vex gets to her feet and moves around the bed to offer him her hands. “The wisest thing you’ve said in weeks.”

Laina is midway through breakfast preparations when they make their way into the dining hall, the heavenly smell of bacon filling the air and making Vex’s stomach growl ferociously. Only the evening guard is up at this time, waiting for a meal before they sleep until afternoon. Shayne raises a cup of coffee at them. “Glad to see you're feeling better, Master Vax.”

“Takes more than a single doppleganger to keep me down,” he says, even as he winces into his seat. 

“Jarett still asleep?” Vex asks.

Cordell nods. “He told Yeates to man the guard for the day.”

“Good.” She sits beside her brother, thunking down heavily as the weariness and hunger of her body takes over. It's been a very long several hours, and she didn't get the delightful respite of a nice dinner that her brother got. She turns to look at him. “What did you eat, anyway?”

“Fish,” Vax says. “So much fish. I can still taste it when I burp.”

“Gross.” She shoves him lightly, then brightens as Laina hurries out into the hall with a tray full of goods.

“Don't fuss now, don't fuss, food’s here,” she says, stopping first at the guards’ table to drop off plates of bacon and eggs, then to the twins. “Don't fill up, now, we've got sweet rolls coming out in just a few minutes.”

“Laina, you angel,” Vex says, eagerly grabbing for the bacon. The hot, salty crispness at once satisfies her need, and amplifies it tenfold. Before Laina's even disappeared through the kitchen door, she's eaten three strips and a mouthful of eggs. 

“Easy, Stubby, chew your food,” Vax admonishes, being much more contained with his own meal.

“Easy for you to say,” she says around the eggs. “You got a big old fancy feast last night. You know what I got?”

“Ankheg surprise?” 

“Bloody lot of bile is what I got. Glad you had fun.”

He grins, but busies himself with eating more than teasing. 

They've both eaten their fill and are sipping coffee by the time Pike and Keyleth join them. Pike looks a bit tired, but Keyleth is fresh as a daisy, and shows it as she jovially plucks a lingering bit of bacon off Vax's plate. “Morning,” she says, sitting down across from the twins.

“How are you two feeling?” Pike asks, in that wholly sincere way that can make anyone's heart melt. 

“Fine,” Vex says. “Just a bit tired, you know.”

“I have stabbing pains in my shins,” Vax says.

“I could try to help with that,” Pike offers, but Vex waves her off.

“Don't, he's just being a baby.”

“I'm not, I got stabbed by a doppleganger's poisoned knife thing, I think I'm entitled to a bitch or two.”

“We reward injuries with bitches now?” Keyleth says.

Vex puts a hand to her face. “Keyleth, no.”

“No, but we should,” Vax says with a slight grin. “I'd have bitches for days.”

“How many bitches do you really need when you've got Gilmore?” Vex says.

He thinks on that for a moment. “You know, I have a feeling he's proficient in procuring those too, funny enough.”

Keyleth shakes her head. “Wait, I'm lost.”

“That's probably okay,” says Vax.

“Where does Gilmore come into this?”

Vex opens her mouth, then pauses and looks at Vax. She'd given him a hard time the other day and that hadn't gone super well, so she waits to see if he actually wants to share.

He's looking at Keyleth like she's missing the obvious. “He's a trader of glorious goods.”

“Oh. Got it,” says Keyleth like she doesn't really get it. “What were you doing last night that you got stabbed, anyway?”

“Remember that thing I was doing yesterday?” Vex says. “Well, it turned into a bigger thing.”

“Grog said you guys fought a big bug and then a child,” Pike says.

“Technically true.”

“It was a  _ kid _ ? That's how it snuck up on you?” Vax says.

“He said the bug killed his father, I took pity,” she says defensively. “At least I didn’t mistake it for my own  _ twin _ .”

“I didn’t,” he says smartly. “I knew as soon as it mentioned Trinket that it wasn’t you.”

She looks at him, but can’t bring herself to retort. She knows he knew it wasn’t her. That’s why he was the one to start a rescue mission when Jarett couldn’t get anyone else to listen — if it involves her safety, Vax can never be too careful. As much shit as she gives him for it, there are absolutely a number of times that she’d have been dead if it wasn’t for his concern.

”Maybe we shouldn’t try to do things without the whole party anymore,” Keyleth says.

Vex shrugs. “We made it out alright in the end. Who wants to go with me to get that bounty today?”

“Sure,” Pike says brightly. “I’ve been missing out on all the excitement lately.”

“Yeah, I’ll go,” Keyleth says, chewing thoughtfully on some eggs. “Mentioning Gilmore reminded me that I want to check on those alchemy classes again. Can we stop by there, too?”

“We most  _ certainly _ can, Keyleth,” Vex says with a grin. She looks at her brother. “How about you, Vax? Want to go get some cash and spend it at Gilmore’s?”

He gives her an almost suspicious look, amused and hesitant all at once. “Alright,” he says finally. “I don't have anything else to do today.”

“Wonderful.” She turns to the others, smiling brightly. “We’ll leave in an hour or so once everyone's ready.” Then she looks back at Vax, continuing to smile sweetly as he awkwardly faces forward. After a long moment, he slowly gets up, and then walks away. 

“Is he okay?” Keyleth asks.

“He’s perfectly fine, dear,” Vex says, wrapping her hands around her cup of coffee. Because he is, and she knows damn well that he is, because he didn’t even yell at her about almost dying to a monster last night. For all that everyone teases him about his relationship with Gilmore, she knows he hesitated to ever actually do anything about it. Now that the two have finally started to do things the right way, she’s looking forward to seeing the lighter side of her brother. 

And she really wants to put him next to Gilmore immediately so she can tease him relentlessly about his doe eyes.

\-----

Vax stiffly makes his way back up the stairs after breakfast to his room, feeling sleepy now after his meal and a night of little sleep. He'll have to shake himself out of it, though, and try to appear a little more alert and rested if he's to see Gilmore again.

He shouldn't be playing this too cool, either. He  _ knows _ Gilmore, they've been friends for some time now. It's silly to behave like a teenager with a crush. And just because there will be witnesses doesn’t mean he has to be weird about it all.

“Vax?”

The sound of Percy's voice pulls him away from his thoughts. He glances up to see him stepping out of his own chambers, and then Vax swiftly opens his door. “I'm a bit busy right now-”

“Oh, don't be ridiculous.” Percy walks towards him, then takes hold of the door so Vax can't open it further. “What are you running away from?”

“Nothing, I'm just standing here.”

Percy raises an eyebrow. “Well, good. Because there's nothing to be scared of.” He releases the door, taking a step back out of Vax's space. “I appreciate what happened the other night for what it was: just two people, a little fucked up, doing something probably not very wise. It doesn't need to be anything more or less than that.”

“I agree,” says Vax. “I said as much.”

“You did,” says Percy. “And then you ran the other direction every time you saw me.”

Vax hates how Percy argues, like he's not actually arguing but everything he says is a checkmate anyway. “So all is forgiven, we can move on.”

“Not forgiven,” he says with a shake of his head. “Just done. It's not anything. Go date whomever you like, do as you please, by all means, continue to slap me on the arse whenever you feel so inspired. I'm not uncomfortable, far from it, and I don't want you to be either. I care about you far too much to let something like additional intimacy ruin our relationship.”

Vax considers him for a moment. He seems sincere, and that's something Percy usually is. It makes him feel stupid. They'd already had this conversation to avoid awkwardness, and there he'd gone doing it anyway. Of course it's fine, Percy does all sorts of weird shit just because, this isn't that different. So Vax turns to fully face him, sticks out a hand, and grips Percy's forearm when he reciprocates. “Please never tell Vex,” he says.

“It goes to my grave,” Percy says.

“Good.” He opens his door again and steps inside. “It was good, though.”

“We don't have to talk about it.”

He grins as Percy goes back down the hall, softly closing his door so that he can change his clothes for the day.

It's stupid, how much he labors over what to wear. He's not going to dress up like he did last night, but he certainly doesn't want to be wearing the clothes that are stiff with doppleganger blood. Somewhere in between is a casual outfit of tailored trousers, a clean but worn black jerkin, and his everyday boots. For flair, he dons the red Cape of the Mountebank, admiring the pop of color it gives his characteristically dark appearance. 

A fist hammers on his door several times. “Are you beautiful yet? We've been waiting forever,” Vex calls.

With a roll of his eyes, he shoots himself one last look in the mirror before opening the door and joining the girls in the hall. He pauses, cocking his head, because it's definitely not just the girls standing there.

“Everyone sort of had errands to run,” Vex says, and her tone just barely borders on apology.

Vax looks around at the rest of Vox Machina, doing some mental arithmetic over how the day is going to go. He knows exactly what's going to happen as soon as they reach Gilmore's; he can easily keep Pike and Keyleth from knowing too much if he wants, but that's absolutely not going to happen with Scanlan around. As it's really not a dangerous secret, just some privacy that he'd prefer to have, he decides the best route is to just mentally and emotionally prepare for his stupid family going crazy over figuring things out. 

On second thought, actually, half of them are convinced he's already sleeping with Gilmore anyway. Absolutely nothing is going to be different.

He puts on a smile and looks at Vex. “The more, the merrier. Lead the way, sister.”

She gives him one last searching look before turning and leading the party down the stairs and out of the keep.

Today, in spite of the early winter, is bright and sunny. A crisp breeze rustles the party’s cloaks as they make the trip into Emon proper. Vax looks around at his friends, and his heart swells with contentment at how at-ease everyone is for the moment. No one is mortally injured, they’re not on their way to kill anything. Sometimes, every once in a great while, Vox Machina is permitted a moment of peace. A moment when, perhaps, the rest of the world slows down for them, so that things aren’t getting destroyed every hour and they can enter a market district just like anyone else. They’re clean, mostly rested, mostly healthy, just going about their business.

It’s truly a beautiful thing. 

The first stop is the local guard office in Abadar’s Promenade. Vex takes charge immediately, grabbing the first guard she sees and sweetly getting him to get whoever is in charge of the bounties. This leads to the lawmaster being brought out, who casts an uncertain eye over the ragtag group before him.

“The bounty for the creature on Farlow farms?” Vex says.

“Yes, fifteen hundred gold to do a bit of pest control,” he says.

She motions to Grog, who pulls the large, triangular head of the ankheg out of the bag of holding. There’s a collection of surprised noises from the other guards in the building, but the lawmaster simply grimaces. “Well, we took care of that,” Vex says. “But there was also a doppleganger luring people down there that we took care of, too. Grog?”

He pulls the head of the doppleganger out, as well, which, with its nearly human face, is quite a bit more gruesome. 

“While I applaud your bravery and tenacity,” says the lawmaster, “the bounty doesn’t cover this.”

“If I may,” says Scanlan, stepping forward. “Hi, Burt Reynolds, Esquire. No one knew about the ankheg that burrowed the hole until we went down there and took care of it, leaving the bounty vague on exactly what needed to be dispatched to earn the reward. We looked into the matter, as was requested, and we found two different monsters underneath Mr. Farlow’s property. I think it’s only fair that the reward is doubled in that case.”

As silly as Scanlan is most of the time, Vax does love when Burt Reynolds comes out to play.

But the lawmaster seems less impressed, a slight smile turning up the corner of his mouth. “The wording was vague, yes. So it covers the event of multiple creatures.”

“Ah, pardon me, but,” Scanlan goes to the bulletin board with a copy of all the bounties on it and pulls at the one they handled, “I’m looking at it, and the phrase  _ the creature _ is written twice, implying the idea that only one was present. Our party hunted the one, and was lured down by a second.”

Vox Machina collectively holds its breath, watching as the lawmaster stalks over to the board to see for himself. After a long moment of him reading, he sighs and pulls the page from the wall. “Two thousand gold pieces,” says the lawmaster.

“All due respect, sir, we didn’t fight a  _ third _ of a monster, and in fact had to call in reinforcements before Mr. Farlow ended up with even more dead bodies on his plot.”

“This isn’t a bazaar,” the lawmaster laughs. “You can’t haggle over city funds.”

“And if you want people to keep taking your vaguely-worded bounties, you should be ready to pay them for the time and energy they put into assisting you with  _ your _ job,” Scanlan says.

The lawmaster narrows his eyes. “Twenty-five hundred, or you walk out with nothing.”

“Done.” Scanlan gives a devilish smile. “Pleasure doing business with you.”

“Yes, yes.” He waves to someone who isn’t a guard, someone more secretarial, and they hurry off, returning with two large sacks of coins.

“Oh, beautiful,” Vex sighs, taking both bags herself.

“Now go, before you bring any more trouble in,” says the lawmaster as he retreats back to his office.

“So that’s, what, like… a thousand each?” Grog says, following close behind Vex as she walks back outside.

“Well, not everyone had a hand on this ball,” Scanlan says. 

“Wait, so Pike and I aren’t getting anything?” Keyleth asks. “I thought this was going into party funds.”

“It’s  _ meant _ to pay our staff,” Vex says. “We keep spending all our fucking money, I wanted to do an odd job to make sure we had their fees this month.”

“You made me go down in that hole for nothing?” Grog says.

“I haggled with the law so we could give a bonus to our  _ cook _ ?” Scanlan says.

Vex shoots him a cold look. “Do you want to let her go?”

Scanan clasps his hands. “No.”

“We can each have  _ some _ ,” she says, though she holds the bags a little more tightly. “We just need to set aside six hundred for the staff, and a little extra for Jarett because he came down to rescue us.”

“Yeah,  _ that’s _ why he gets a bonus.”

“Well, I don’t need any,” Pike says. “I didn’t go down to fight anything, I don’t think I should get a share.”

“I don’t need any, either,” Vax says, resting an arm on his sister’s shoulder.

She looks at him, blinking in surprise. “Vax, that thing  _ stabbed _ you.”

He shrugs. “I’m squishy. It’s fine, give mine to Keyleth, give it to Jarett, I don’t care.”

“I don’t want your share,” Keyleth says, some of the wind having gone out of her sails.

“Alright, hold on,” Vex says. “If just the people who went into the hole get paid, then that’s….” She squints, running through the numbers. “Like, three hundred and sixteen gold per person?”

“Put mine back in the pot,” says Vax.

“I want his share,” Scanlan says.

Grog makes a face. “What if I want it?”

“ _ No one _ gets it,” Vex snaps. “If he doesn’t want his money, it goes into party funds. Here.” She begins portioning out handfuls of gold pieces, and once Grog and Scanlan have gotten theirs, she turns to Percy. 

He shrugs at her. “You always keep my money.”

She almost stamps her foot in frustration. “Does  _ anybody _ want their money?”

“I mean, I’ll take some, if you’re offering,” Keyleth says. “I’ve got some things I want to get today.”

“Here, then,” Vex says, shoving some gold in her hands. “Is everyone happy?”

After a collective murmur of assent, Vax steps back away from everyone. “Well, I’m headed to Gilmore’s. Anyone who wants to can join me.”

And just like that, he gets the whole party to agree on something, just because he won’t stop walking to give them a chance to argue. They might be a bunch of bickering idiots, but he definitely does love them.

Today, Sherri is not manning the counter of Gilmore's Glorious Goods, and is instead taking stock of the shelves while the store's namesake writes in a ledger at the counter instead. He looks up as the bell rings to announce their arrival, and his face breaks into a wide smile. “Well, if it isn't my favorite customers,” he says, immediately closing his ledger. “Welcome, welcome. What can I do for you on this beautiful day?”

“We're flush today, Gilmore,” Scanlan says. “Just retrieved our earnings for a little job we did. Nothing big, just an ankheg, a doppleganger, no big deal.”

Gilmore raises his eyebrows. “A doppleganger? Don't see many of those in this area. Where'd you find that?”

“Just outside the wall, actually,” Vex says. “It wanted to eat us. Apparently was pissed off that some other adventurers had killed its parents, and that became our problem.”

“How unfortunate.”

“And they would have been doomed, if it hadn't been for me and Vax jumping to their rescue,” Scanlan continues, leaning against a set of shelves. “We grabbed our guard and charged down into that hole, heroically freeing our friends before the monster could even get a taste. Vax, of course, sustained serious injury, but very little can stop him when his sister is in danger.”

“Uh huh,” Gilmore says slowly, the expression on his face saying he's trying to follow, but having difficulty. “When did all of this occur?”

“Last night,” Grog says.

Gilmore's eyes go wide again and he instantly looks to Vax. “You couldn't have been out of my company for more than an hour.”

Vax tries to be casual, leaning back against a display table with two half-mannequins on it. “An hour, thirty minutes, who's to say, really? It all happened so fast.”

He doesn't have a response for a moment, then finally chooses to simply shake his head and laugh. “You all do like to keep busy, don't you? I suppose it's what keeps you coming to my store. Now, are you all here for some merchandise, or did you just want to visit me?”

“Oh, stuff,” Keyleth says. “We're definitely here for stuff.”

“I'm just here to visit,” Vax says, to which Gilmore gives a bit of an exasperated smile.

“Well, then let's not delay,” he says, clapping his hands together. “Sherri?”

Vax glances over at her, watching as she continues to face the shelves for a moment and take a deep breath. “I'll take care of them, Mr. Gilmore,” she sighs, turning to head back to the counter.

“There's a dear. Vax, may I have a word with you?”

There's clear disappointment among the members of Vox Machina who aren't Vex. Most are unsurprised, but they'd obviously thought they'd get a bit of time with the store's actual owner. Vax feels a little bad, because he certainly can't blame them, and had honestly just been content to watch them haggle this time instead of stealing Gilmore away. He obeys, however, saluting his friends as he follows Gilmore to the back room. 

“Behave, you two,” Scanlan calls.

As soon as they're alone, Gilmore takes Vax by the hand and pulls him close, looking him over. “Serious injury?” he says with a raised eyebrow.

“Ah, Gilmore,” Vax says, pulling back slightly with what he hopes is a charming laugh. “It wasn't the blade that got me, just the toxin on it. Everyone got paralyzed, I wasn't the only one.”

Gilmore looks at him like this solves nothing. “I have to wonder if you're just such a fiend for danger that you must go flying to it the moment you're out of my eyesight.”

“Hey,” he says, actually feeling a bit of a sting at that. “Gil, my sister was in trouble. The head of our guard met me at the front gate, what would you have had me do?”

“Me? Nothing,” he says with a laugh that isn't as full as his usual. “I know my place, Vax, I'm not about to start dictating when you're allowed to go adventuring.”

His face is honest, but there's something in his tone that tells Vax he's a little hurt. Or maybe just miffed. He takes Gilmore by the hand and tugs him over to the table, allowing them to both sit down. “Gil,” he says, squeezing the hand he holds, “I'm fine. A little sore, but nothing I've never handled before. I know what I'm doing.”

Gilmore presses his lips together for a moment, his free hand stroking his braided beard as he thinks. “I care for you, Vax,” he says. “This thing between us, however much we've danced around it, is still new. I'd like to explore it further. And while I acknowledge and accept your exciting lifestyle, it…. I can’t be faulted for having a less than positive reaction to learning you nearly got yourself killed just after we finally took some time for each other.”

That’s fair. Vax leans back in his chair with a sigh, managing to keep touching Gilmore’s hand with his fingers. “You’re right,” he says. “And I am sorry. But it was-”

“Necessary, I know.” 

Vax looks at him, a tight feeling curdling in his stomach. “Is this making you rethink things?”

He’s relieved to hear a chuckle. “Heavens, no. No, I knew what I’d be getting myself into.”

“I can try harder,” he says. “To be more… careful. To think more.” He said the same thing to Percy. He needs to start meaning it.

“You’re a man who’s constantly in motion,” Gilmore says. “I know this. Your energy is part of your charm. Just… remember me, next time you want to go jumping into untold danger?”

Vax takes a breath. “I told you I’m getting better about promises. This is another. I promise to at least consider you in my actions before I do them.”

Gilmore looks at him with a small smile, then slides his hand forward so that he can lace their fingers together. “This is why I don't have second thoughts. I know you're someone who's willing to put forth the effort.”

That much is certainly true. The trick is usually getting him to stop doing that. “I'm glad I've put your mind at ease,” he says. “And, for the record…. I'm looking forward to exploring this further, too.”

Then something happens that makes Vax's heart erupt into flames.

“Are you  _ blushing _ ?” he says incredulously as Gilmore looks away.

“Oh, hush.”

“Come here, you.” Vax moves out of his chair and isn't even fully standing when he cups the back of Gilmore's head and pulls him in for a deep, appreciative kiss. 

“Hmm,” Gilmore hums after a moment. “I don't suppose you can keep your friends waiting a little longer?”

“Gil,” he says, mock scandalized. “You don't have a  _ door _ .”

“You think all that separates my personal quarters from the store are some curtains and beads?” Gilmore gets to his feet, moving around Vax to go to the doorway and tug at something above it. A bolt of cloth Vax hadn't noticed unfurls, dropping down the full length of the door. It's a panel of dark red, thick-looking fabric with black taping bordering the edges. Gilmore smooths his hands down these edges, and they affix themselves to the door frame like glue.

“No sound can come in or out of this room now,” he says proudly.

“Gil,” says Vax. “That's really cool and all, but why don't you just get a door?”

Gilmore spreads his hands, stepping back to him. “Appearances.” He takes Vax by the waist, pulling him close. “Now, where were we?”

“Whoa, there, what happened to too much of a good thing?” Vax asks, though he doesn't try to step out of Gilmore's grasp.

He makes a show of pouting. “Oh, but you just look so tempting.”

“And you're a treat yourself, but it's the middle of the day and my sister is literally on the other side of that door.”

He laughs loudly, pulling back a bit. “Fair enough.”

“But that's not to say,” Vax says, pulling him in again, “that we can't be a  _ little _ naughty.”

Gilmore smirks. “A rogue to the last.”

Five minutes later, Gilmore is seated on the edge of his bed, and Vax is on his lap, pulling at his bottom lip with his teeth. Gilmore's fingers thread through his dark locks, sometimes twisting a little in a way Vax finds he likes. Whenever they need to surface for air, they still don't part, face pressed against face until one or the other picks up the rhythm again. 

Vax feels like a teenager, but it's delicious. All the kissing, tonguing, the deep need to touch, but refraining from going too far, it sends a sort of giddiness through his head that makes him terrified of getting caught. Gilmore keeps pawing at him in a way that's _ almost _ unrefined, if he'd just let himself be. It clues Vax in to just how much he really wants to explore, and he loves it. 

Neither really wants to stop, but after a period of time, the pace begins to slow dramatically, until Vax is kissing him as slowly and as sweetly as molasses. The minor adrenaline of physical contact has given way to the subtle addiction of taste, where Vax is clear-headed enough to know that he should stop soon, but can't seem to make himself break away. 

Gilmore does, eventually, though it's a slow process. Finally, he tightens his hold on Vax's waist just to keep him from moving in again. “When are you free next?” he asks, voice a breathless murmur.

“I think I ought to be asking you that,” Vax says. “I'm free until I'm not.”

Gilmore smiles slightly. “I have a lot going on tomorrow with the Westruun location, a lot of meetings with suppliers. If you can manage to stay in town until the day after, I can make time.”

Vax hums quietly, twisting a finger in one of Gilmore's curls. “Are we going off to another fancy restaurant?”

Gilmore considers this. “We don't have to. Did you have something else in mind?”

“I don't know what there is to do around here.”

He laughs. “Fair enough.” He thinks for a moment. “There's the Alabaster Theater, I could see what shows they're currently running.”

Vax raises his eyebrows. “Turning me cultured, are we?”

“Well, what do you normally do for fun?” Gilmore laughs. “Besides get into fights, of course.”

“Usually drinking and shopping,” he says with a shrug. “Sometimes we just watch Grog fight things.”

“A spectacle, I'm sure,” he says. “Well, if you remain in Emon for the next few days, I'll think of something interesting to do.”

“And if I think of anything, I'll be sure to leave a message with Sherri.”

Gilmore snorts so loudly that Vax is positive it can be heard from the shop, curtain or no curtain. “That poor girl. Your presence isn't going to make her life better.”

“It will be more interesting.” With a not inconsiderable amount of regret, Vax smoothly moves off of Gilmore and stands. “Just know that if we end up leaving before then, I’m not trying to escape you.”

Gilmore stands as well, smiling. “I’ll keep that in mind when you inevitably vanish.” He goes to the door and begins rolling up the curtain. As soon as the border is pulled away from the wall, Vax feels a tangible shift, like the air and sound has begun to move again. The noise of haggling becomes audible once again.

He and Gilmore step out into the shop, where Vox Machina has accrued a collection of magical items on the counter, and have also placed a few artifacts of their own for trade. As soon as she sees them, Vex lights up. “Gilmore! Hi! We were just discussing with Sherri -- all this for two thousand gold and a fancy sword?”

Sherri looks to Gilmore like the discussion was mostly about how that was not going to happen.

Gilmore casts an eye over the merchandise, then gives her a mildly exasperated look. “Vex.”

Oddly enough, it makes Vax incredibly satisfied that this thing with Gilmore changes nothing about their bargaining chances.

In the end, after putting a few things back, they’re able to walk away with most things they want for 1500 gold and a fancy sword. Vex glares at Vax the whole time, like it’s his fault she can’t get her charms to work. If anything, it’s her overuse of these charms on the same shop that’s getting her in trouble. Sherri takes the sword to a locked cupboard to deal with later while Gilmore packages everything up with brown paper and golden ribbon. It all goes into the bag of holding with Grog, and then Gilmore claps his hands once and smiles at everyone. 

“It’s always sad to see all of you go,” he says. “But please, if you have need of anything, don’t hesitate to stop by.”

“We love you, Gilmore,” Vex sings.

“And I love you all as well,” he says. Before Vax can escape, Gilmore snags his hand and lifts it to his lips for a soft kiss. “And I’ll see you in a couple of days.”

Vax stares at him for a moment, caught by surprise. Scanlan wolf-whistles. Gilmore is absolutely flaunting this on purpose, perhaps because if the party will make assumptions anyway, he wants them to know they’re exactly right. “I look forward to it,” Vax says, deciding that he won’t push it any further, and he walks out of the shop with the others.

He’s immediately aware of Percy eyeing him smugly, and he’s not quite sure what that means yet. Vex has already rolled her eyes and moved on, but he sees her secret grin. Scanlan is reaching for Pike’s hand and trying to mirror Gilmore’s gesture, but Pike, seemingly unaware, reaches up to Grog to ask for her items from the bag of holding. 

Keyleth bumps against him with her hip. 

“He looks happy,” she says, a light in her eyes that stirs something nice in Vax, as well.

“I should hope so,” he says.

She bumps him again. “So do you.”

He bites his lip, fighting the grin pulling at his mouth. She seems pleased, which he wasn’t necessarily expecting, but he didn’t know what to expect. After saying he’d wait for her and then not doing that, maybe he expected her to be hurt. “Keyleth-”

“You don’t have to explain anything,” she says. “If I’d wanted you all to myself, then I should have taken that chance.”

He glances at her. “Do you regret it?”

Her face scrunches up the way it does when she’s supposed to say something meaningful, but can’t get the words to sound right. “I don’t… no, I don’t think so. I have my reasons, Vax, and I didn’t expect you to wait forever. Not that I thought you wouldn’t, just that….”

“It’s alright, I understand,” he says, but she shakes her head.

“You  _ shouldn’t _ . Have waited, I mean. Gilmore has always looked at you differently from the rest of us, I know you can be really happy with him.” She smiles, eyes bright. “I’m glad.”

He allows the grin to creep up his face, side-eyeing her. “Keke… it’s been  _ one _ date.”

“What counts as a date, then? Because every time we’ve gone shopping, you’ve taken him out for drinks.”

“That was just as friends,” he says. At her look, he adds, “Really good friends.”

“Is it different now that you’re actually seeing each other?”

Now it’s his turn to have a hard time getting words to work. “I -- no, they -- it’s not anything, it didn’t count yet.”

She nods wisely. “Of course. Courtship is so much more confusing than I ever imagined.”

“You would not believe.”

She smiles at him, then, and moves ahead to walk with Vex. Vax watches her for a moment, and tries to determine what exactly he’s feeling. Not disappointment, which is good. Relieved, that she’s not angry with him, or trying to undo her rejection. She has her reasons, and he’ll let her keep them. But mostly he’s trying to see if he still feels what he confessed to her at the Suntree, to test himself and know if this thing with Gilmore is as real as it seems.

He cares for her. She’s kind, and awkward, and steadfastly moral, and quite lovely to look at. But he thinks, now that Gilmore is reciprocating his affections, he doesn’t long for her. Part of being in love is hoping that the person in question will return those feelings, and when they don’t, it becomes more difficult to feel good about that love. Gilmore is making it easy, and it’s certainly drawing Vax’s attention. He hopes for nothing from Keyleth, other than that she be happy.

It’s a relief, and for the moment, he’s actually glad she told him no.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A return to steaminess, this time Vex style.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you may have noticed, updates are slowing down for the holidays, but I fully intend to continue writing. Hope you guys enjoy and are having a blessed Yuletide!

After returning to the keep and taking a very,  _ very _ long nap, Vex rises in the early evening with her face in Trinket’s fur. After a moment, she’s awake enough to hear voices down in the courtyard from her cracked window. Trinket gives a little moan as she gets up, but she gives him a pat on the head before pushing her window further open.

What she sees is even more confusing than just people hanging out in the courtyard in winter. Scanlan is down there, holding a hand crossbow, though when sized for a human, it’s basically a normal crossbow for him. He’s aiming at a few targets, but not firing yet as he makes conversation with Jarett. Jarett, who stands next to him with his own crossbow, making motions like he’s demonstrating how to shoot.

“What are you doing?” Vex calls.

Scanlan turns around to look at her. “Ah, Vex. I’m having Jarett teach me how to handle a crossbow. I think it’s useful knowledge, and he’s just so strong and capable, I could think of no better teacher.”

Even from this distance, she can see the exasperated look on Jarett’s face. “This isn’t because you want Percy to give you a gun, is it?” she asks.

“What? Me? No.” He waves a hand. “It’s just useful to know how to shoot things.”

She shakes her head, but continues to watch as Jarett points out a couple more things to Scanlan, and then their little bard appears ready to fire.

His shot doesn’t go wide so much as it goes straight into the ground.

“I think I need you to show me how you do it, Jarett,” Scanlan says, and she  _ knows _ he’s talking loud enough for her to hear on purpose.

Jarett visibly sighs, but acquiesces. He lifts his large crossbow, takes a couple seconds to aim, and hits his mark in the middle of the target. “See? Not so hard.”

“Wow! That’s amazing! You’re so  _ talented _ .”

Vex rolls her eyes so hard she almost sees her brain. Scanlan is many things, and subtle is not one of them. She does start to get her own ideas, however and leaves the window to retrieve her bow from the wall. As she does, she hears, “Oh, Jarett, I guess she wasn’t very impressed with you,” from below. What a jerk.

It’s as Scanlan is aiming to fire a second time that she nocks her arrow, draws, and releases. It speeds down to the courtyard and sinks into Scanlan’s target, dead center. They both whirl around to look up, and she gives them a little wave. “You get a little more range with a longbow, dear,” she says.

“ _ Wow _ !” Scanlan yells, as if he hasn’t seen her make multiple trick shots in the past, most of them much harder. “Does that one count as mine? It’s in my target.”

“Yours is over in that tree, so no,” says Jarett before looking back up at Vex. “You’re free to join us if you’re feeling competitive.”

She raises an eyebrow. “You think you can compete against me?”

“I think I can if I hand you a crossbow.”

She’s deeply offended. “It’s point and shoot, dear, nothing difficult about that.”

He spreads his arms. “I’m willing to be educated.”

She narrows her eyes, wondering just what sort of game those two are playing. Whatever it is, she's determined to beat them at it. She grabs her quiver in her free hand and leaves her room, jogging down the stairs to the main hall. 

Grog is just exiting the dining hall at this moment, and as he sees her run by with her weapons, he calls, “Wh- Vex, what's going on? S'there a fight?”

“Just a little competition,” she says over her shoulder.

He lights up immediately. “Oh I love those! Is it strength? I'm good at those.”

He's following now, so she just lets him go out to the courtyard and see for himself. Jarett is waiting for her with a second crossbow in hand now, this one lightweight. “You must be joking,” she says.

He shrugs. “I only have one of each size. You can pick, if you want.”

She sets her own bow and quiver down, then points at the heavy crossbow. He obliges quickly and without judgement. It's much heavier than a bow, of course, and a lot of the weight is put on the forearms instead of the biceps. But she didn't learn how to be accurate with a hundred pound draw for nothing. 

Grog snorts as she takes aim for the target. “You’d better get ready, she’s gonna cream you.”

“Alright,” says Scanlan, stepping out of the range. “You get one practice shot and then-”

She fires, and the bolt hits center. 

Scanlan waits a beat, then says, “Okay, that was your practice shot.”

Jarett is grinning widely, and it's not obvious, but she can tell he's a little impressed. “I stand corrected, I suppose.”

Grog looks very smug. “Told ya.”

“You act like I've never even held one of these before,” she says, returning the weapon. “Just so we're clear, the crossbow was invented to more easily train people who didn't have the time and skill it takes to use a bow.”

Grog sucks a breath through his teeth. “Ouch. Jarett, are you going to take that?”

Jarett looks at him with raised eyebrows. “And what would I do instead, pray tell?”

Vex holds out her bow. Jarett turns his look of disbelief to her, but she continues to hold it. A long moment passes without either of them saying a word, before Jarett finally takes the bow and the single arrow she hands him after. “It's not going to be good,” he warns. 

“I know you can at least aim,” she says.

He just shakes his head at her with that grin and turns to the target. 

“Okay,” says Scanlan. “You get one practice shot.”

Jarett raises the bow and pulls back on the string, grimacing slightly at the draw weight. “Tell me if I'm doing this wrong.”

“You can do it any way you want, dear,” she says, crossing her arms.

He huffs, takes aim, and releases. 

Dead center.

“Oh, shit,” says Grog.

Scanlan holds his hands out as though presenting the bullseye. “Practice shot.”

Jarett turns to Vex with wide eyes, more surprised than anyone else. “That was a fluke.”

Vex is… unbelievably aroused. This is it. The straw that broke the back of a camel walking through the I'm Not Going To Sleep With The Guard Captain Desert. But she is Vex'ahlia, and she has complete control over herself. She will not throw herself at him, nor will she have pity.

“Do it again.”

He looks at her in utter disbelief. “Vex'ahlia, I promise you, it will not go that well again.”

“That was just practice!” Scanlan reminds everyone.

She does not waver, and he gets the message. With a heavy sigh, he accepts a second arrow and takes aim.

This one sinks in at the very edge of the target, but the power and control was definitely there. It doesn't even matter to her. She can't put into words exactly what's doing it for her here, she just knows that everything before her is magnificent. Calmly, though, she approaches him and takes her bow back, her fingers sliding against his hand as she does. He’s definitely aware of that, she notices, but he says nothing. “Maybe you’ll think twice before challenging me from now on,” she says. 

“Or,” he says, “I work on getting better.”

“If you’re looking for tips from me, you’re not going to get them.”

“No? I’d imagine you’re very good at giving instruction.”

Oh, he’s going to get himself in trouble. Vex narrows her eyes, giving him a hard, searching look. Is he flirting back? Very probably. 

“If you two don’t tone it down, I’m going to have to call a penalty,” Scanlan calls.

Vex steps back. “You have some skill,” she says as she retreats. “You could  _ almost _ be as good as me. If you worked at it. And became as utterly amazing.”

“Oh, I can get better,” he says with a small smile, “but I could never hope to be your equal, Lady Vex’ahlia.”

“Guys, I’m gonna call a penalty, I’m not joking.”

“Can I try the crossbow?” Grog asks.

Jarett tears his eyes away from Vex to look at him, bemused. “Can you do it without breaking it?”

“Yeah! Well… yeah, probably.”

Vex turns away, then, heading back inside the keep. The sun is going down now, it’s becoming too dark to justify shooting things for fun. She has too much else on her mind, anyway, the sorts of things she’d rather not have Scanlan teasing her about out in the open. 

She thinks this through. Is it unwise? It would only be unwise if she planned to use any sort of relationship with Jarett as leverage, which she wouldn’t do. He’d always be allowed to speak his mind, to choose what he wants to do, and it would never affect his job. But he won’t get any professional perks for it, either, or at least none that the others wouldn’t be eligible for. She’d be fair and consistent in her treatment of him.

Is that enough? She almost wants to ask someone about it, but can’t think of a single person she’d want to confess to. It seems too serious, somehow, to bring another person into it when she doesn’t think her feelings are so serious. She likes him. He makes her feel all sorts of feelings, fuzzy and otherwise, and maybe she makes him feel things, too. That’s alright, isn’t it?

Her heart is pounding far faster than it should be. The way he looked at her today, goading her into coming down to the courtyard, he absolutely knew what he was doing. He must know what this will lead to.

They’ll be adults, then. If anything ever happens, they’ll just talk about it, and be clear. They’re both pretty good at that, and Vex has never been one to not say what she means. It’s fine.

She goes into her room and puts her bow back, trying to control her breathing. Damn him, but she can’t stop thinking about him. She watched those arms when he pulled back, she saw the strength and ease with which his muscles moved. It’s so hard no to think about those arms holding her, lifting her, pinning her-

“Trinket?” she says, and is startled that her voice shakes a little. The bear looks up curiously, having not moved from his corner since she went down to the courtyard. “I love you, buddy, but would you mind going downstairs tonight?”

Trinket moans in protest, which momentarily cools the heat in her body, but there is an insistence in her mind. “Don’t be like that, Trink, you can sit in front of the big fire in the dining hall. You love that spot.” He groans again, and she scratches him behind the ears. “Mummy needs some space tonight.”

If a bear could roll its eyes, Trinket would. He heaves himself to his feet, gives Vex an affectionate bump with his head, then trundles on out the door and down the hall. Once he’s gone, she shuts her door and leans against it, taking a deep breath. She might control herself and do nothing tonight, but it’s good to get Trinket out if that changes. 

It’s been a long time since she’s been with anyone the way she thinks of being with Jarett. At first, she just didn’t have the time. Now she doesn’t have time, and she’s picky. Flirting is one thing, but allowing someone else a personal experience like that is quite another. 

But she’s not like Vax. She doesn’t feel like messing around with dates and romance and the like, she wants to get to the point. So it’s hard to get that trust she’s looking for without the buildup, and maybe that’s why it’s Jarett when it hasn’t been anyone else. He’s been around, but not too close, and he’s been showing interest for a while now. It’s enough for her. 

She nearly jumps out of her skin as her door vibrates with knocking. Taking a quick breath to compose herself, she opens the door, and her heart slams against her chest at the sight of Jarett. “Did you lose to Grog, too?” she asks.

He gives her a half smile that puts a fluttery feeling in her chest. “You wound me,” he says with a hand on his chest. “He didn’t stand a chance.”

She looks him over and cocks her head. “Why are you here, then? Guard business?”

It’s a moment before he answers, a moment that he spends looking her directly in the eyes. “I took the day off, to recover. No business tonight.”

He has questions on his tongue, she can easily tell. He looks intent, but uncertain, probably afraid to embarrass himself or lose his job. 

She decides to remove that uncertainty.

“I’ve always thought that if you’re going to do something, you should do it,” she says without breaking eye contact.

He looks back at her with such intensity that she can physically feel it, like her entire body is sensing what’s about to happen. Then he surges forward and takes her by the waist, fitting his lips to hers. She responds by seizing the front of his jerkin and walking him two steps back so she can kick her door shut. His hands start to wander over her body, but she pivots and pushes him onto the bed, keeping him there with her hands on his clothes and a knee at his side. 

He looks at her with open wonder.

“You’re going to do as I say,” she says, nearly breathless. 

“Yes, Vex’ahlia.”

Oh, the obedience is like nectar. She kisses him again, all teeth and fire, then starts to undo the clasps of his jerkin. “Help me,” she mutters. He does so without hesitation, stripping himself of both top layers. He reaches for the laces of his trousers, then realizes that she’s begun undoing her own vest, and so assists with that instead. She feels something absolutely dirty stir inside her when she slides her shirt down her shoulders and Jarett bites his lip.

Their shirts tangle in a pile on the floor, and she pushes him back on the bed to sit astride him while they kiss some more. His hands move to her hips, roving up and down her sides, fingers sinking into her flesh whenever she bites his lip. She tilts her head down to his neck, sucking lightly, but pulling back before leaving any serious marks. His breaths turn shaky in her ear, and one of his hands runs along the inside of her thigh.

She moves her left hand down his chest, down over the dark fuzz on his stomach, past the waistband of his untied trousers. A strangled gasp escapes his throat, and she responds by putting her right hand lightly against his jaw. He gets the message immediately, tilting his head back, exposed and vulnerable.

“You’re being very good,” she says, wrapping her hand around his cock. He’s incredibly hard, so she loosens the trouser laces even more, to give them room. He gives a shaky exhale, then bucks slightly against her hold as she slowly, firmly, strokes upward. She runs her thumb over the tip and -- there it is. A moan, deep and wanting, vibrates through his throat beneath her palm. Through her desire to get what she wants and be in control, something tender breaks through. She lifts the pressure on his jaw and murmurs his name, just looking at his sweet, unguarded face.

His eyes flutter open to look back at her. “Vex,” he says softly.

“If you move a little, I can do this better.”

He visibly swallows, then shifts and pushes himself back until his head is on the pillows. Vex grasps the waistband of his pants and slowly tugs them down, leaving a line of kisses from one pelvic bone to the other. Once she’s gotten him out of his trousers, she straightens a bit to begin removing her own, but Jarett’s hand on her arm stops her. 

“Vex,” he says again, quietly, and though she loves when he says her full name, there’s something different about him finally choosing to use the shorter, more familiar version.

“Something wrong?” she asks.

“No, I-” He pauses, moving his hand to run it through her hair. “I don’t want to do this, I want… to please you, if that’s alright.”

After the icy terror of rejection melts away, Vex realizes what he’s asking, and then has to go through several more seconds of working out what’s happening here. It genuinely shocks her that he doesn’t want to just have sex, because she’s never met a man who’d stop things just as they’re getting good to focus solely on her. But it’s fine, because if she’s honest, she’d enjoy their first bit of intimacy far more without the penetration. Sometimes it takes a few tries to get it right, and things not being enjoyable in the first go around would be a poor way to start things off. So she quietly says, “Okay. Do you want me to lie down?”

Then his clever grin resurfaces, and he says, “We can do this however you like.”

Which is how she ends up fully disrobed and kneeling overtop of him while she keeps her balance on the headboard. Jarett runs gentle hands over her hips, buttocks, legs, and his nose trails teasingly over her inner thigh. She shivers as he grazes over sensitive skin, then sucks in a breath when she feels a wet tongue prod lightly at her opening. His hands come up to her waist again and pull her down slightly, and a moan pushes its way directly from her lungs as that tongue pushes deeper into her. One hand remains keeping her balance, the other moves to run her fingers through Jarett’s short curls, tightening viciously whenever he sends another thrill through her. 

It’s amazing that, even with his respect for her playing a major role in her attraction to him, she still hadn’t expected this. He’s so eager to please, putting his own pleasure aside in order to do so. And he is  _ enthusiastic _ . Her knees, even planted as they are on the bed, are shaking, her abdominal muscles tightening with every turn his tongue takes. He holds her securely around the hips, keeping her in place even when she instinctively jerks or tries to press for more. But he listens, too, when she gasps, “Easy, easy,” when he gets a little too aggressive and the sensation overwhelms her, or when she says, “More like that,” when he starts to do gentle little swirls. 

Some time passes before she starts to think she might not come in this position, trying to focus too much on not falling on top of him. She can feel herself throbbing, aching for that burst of sweetness to rush through her body, and she doesn’t want it to take any longer. “Hold on,” she says, pulling away and off of him. He gives her only a brief look of confusion before she lays down and he understands, moving as well to hook her legs over his shoulders.

He’s incredibly eager to oblige this change, and almost has her folded in half so that he can hold her down. As much as she likes being the one to pin him to the bed, she likes this even more. In this moment, when tension and expectation coils in her entire body and doesn’t know where to go, it feels good to be securely held, to have him keep her in one piece while his tongue works at her with gusto. It’s not long at all from that point before the orgasm rushes towards her,  _ right there _ , and then she shoves him roughly away so he’ll  _ stop _ as her entire body seizes up. He waits patiently, watching, running a hand gently up and down her side, grinning every time a spasm ripples through her. 

“Are you alright?” he says.

She takes another moment to let her head stop spinning. “I’m amazing,” she breathes.

“You are stunning when you do that.”

She smiles slightly, then looks down at him. “What about you?” She’s a bit tapped out at the moment, but in a few minutes she might be able to return the favor. 

But he just shakes his head, wiping his mouth. “No, I don’t need anything.”

She raises her eyebrow doubtfully. “I stuck my hand down your pants and you seemed pretty eager then.”

He laughs before moving to lie back beside her. She notes that he’s still hard. “It doesn’t mean I need it taken care of right away. I did what I wanted to do. Are you satisfied?”

It almost makes her feel guilty to say, “Completely.”

“Then that is all I need.” He holds her gaze for a long moment, smiling warmly, then says, “Am I going to get in trouble?”

She laughs. “No, I won’t let that happen, dear. But we probably shouldn’t be quite so obvious around other people.”

“Ah, it’s hard to help,” he says with a shrug. “You’re a beautiful and competent woman, Vex’ahlia, and I don’t know how long people expect me to let you flirt with me without doing something about it.”

She turns to rest against him, one hand on his chest. “I’m just surprised no one else got to you first. Everyone thinks you’re incredibly hot and badass.”

“So I’ve heard,” he chuckles. Then something more serious enters his eyes as he looks at her, but she can’t quite make out what the emotion is. “What are you expecting from this, Vex’ahlia?”

Moment of truth. She doesn’t know what the right answer is, for him, but she guesses that he asked first so she wouldn’t. Their answers might be different. She’ll deal with that if it comes. “Something nice,” she says. “If you’re good, maybe something that lasts. I don’t mean just sex, but I’m not much of a romantic, either.”

A grin curls at the corner of his mouth. “That’s alright. I don’t think I am, either.”

“So what are  _ you _ expecting?”

He searches for words for a moment, gazing up at the ceiling. “More time with you. I find you very attractive and interesting. It would make me happy to make  _ you _ happy.”

“Is that why you take my orders so well?” she says slyly.

“No, I do what you tell me because that’s what you pay me to do.”

She lightly shoves his shoulder before kissing him, long and slow. “Alright, then,” she says quietly. “Time is something you can have. We slept most of the day, yes?” He nods. “I’m going to go bathe, and then we can spend the rest of the evening in here giving each other some time.”

He tugs her down to kiss her again. “I will impatiently await your return.”

She smiles, then climbs off the bed to retrieve her robe from the wardrobe, her legs still feeling like jelly. His eyes are on her the whole time, dark, still aroused, and pleased. She likes that look. She wants to always make him look like that.

She doesn’t worry about the others finding out, or trying to explain this to them, because there’s nothing here to panic about. This has been a long time coming by now, Scanlan certainly knows it if no one else. The only one she’d have to worry about is her brother, and she knows she can fight him if it comes to it. If Jarett continues to treat her with the level of respect he’s exhibited, then she wants to keep him for as long as he’ll let her.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vax fits in as much quality time with Gilmore as he can manage.

Vax is taking the day to himself. It's been busy lately, with a lot of emotional ups and downs, so today he's decided to be alone and let himself unwind. He took a book out of Tiberius’ old library to brush up a little bit on magic, and enchanting in particular. If he's going to be hanging around Gilmore this often, he'd like to have educated conversations about what exactly the man does. He seemed to like that Vax wanted to put in effort, so effort is what he will give.

His peace is shattered when his door flies open and bangs against the wall. He nearly fumbles his book, swearing as he sits up on the bed. “Vex, what the fuck?”

“I'm seeing Jarett,” she announces.

He stares at her, looks around as if for a reason she came barging in, and finds none. “Okay.”

“I thought you should know from me instead of getting all upset when you find out.”

“I wouldn't get upset.”

“He doesn't want to get in trouble, and I told him he wouldn't be.”

“There's no reason for him to be.”

She narrows her eyes at him. “I know you, I've seen you get all protective when you're in a mood.”

“You're a lovely woman and he's a handsome man. I’m unsurprised. You're being weird.”

“I'm not being weird and you know it.” She enters the room and sits on his bed, crossing her legs. “And I'm saying it now because we just got invited to Uriel's birthday, and I'm bullying my way into taking Jarett as a guest.”

Vax pauses. “When?”

“Tomorrow night.”

He huffs loudly, flipping onto his back. “Can I bow out?”

She smacks his leg. “It's  _ Uriel _ , of course you can't. You got something better to do?”

“I had plans.”

“Well, now you have other plans.” She crosses her arms, leaning back against the footboard. “Anyway, last time you skipped out on a royal party, you almost died.”

He makes a face that she doesn't see. Gilmore was right when he said Vax is a busy man. There’s no telling when they’ll have to tree-jump across the world again, and he’d wanted to take advantage of the time he has here to give Gilmore his time. But they’re both busy, and he should have known it wouldn’t be so simple, even if he stayed in one spot.

“Congrats, I suppose,” he says mildly to the ceiling.

“Thanks.”

“I don’t want to know about it further, if that’s alright.”

“You don’t have to worry.”

“Are you happy, at least?”

“Suitably.”

“Then that’s all I need.” He sits up, heaving a sigh. “I need to go talk to Gilmore.”

“Thought you said he was in Westruun today.”

He puts his hands to his face. “That’s  _ right _ , shit. I’ll… have to leave a note with Sherri, then. Tell him we’ll have to cancel for tomorrow.”

He can feel her eyes on him, not intense, just watching. When he glances at her, she’s tugging at the feathers hanging from her braid. “You alright?”

“Fine,” she says, looking down at her fingers. “It’s just… different, I suppose.”

He raises an eyebrow, waiting for her to explain.

She sighs. “You know. Having other people. It used to be just us, and I thought it was weird when we started trusting all the others, and now you and I are  _ seeing _ people. After what happened to Mum, I….” She looks away. “I don’t know what I thought.”

Vax reaches out, taking one of her fidgeting hands in his own. “I know what you mean,” he says. “And I’d always hoped you’d still be able to find someone to make you happy, you know. I didn’t want everything we’ve been through, or  _ me _ , to hold you back.”

“You couldn’t,” she says.

“You’re still my sister, and I’d still give anything for you, whatever happens.” He squeezes her hand, then releases it with a shrug. “I feel safer, though, knowing there are more people who care about you and will keep you safe.”

“Hm, I think I feel that way more than you do,” she says, poking him in the shoulder. “Need at least six people around with healing potions, just in case. And now you’re cavorting about with our potion supplier. I’ve never been more relaxed.”

“Ha ha.” He slides off the bed, reaching for his boots. “What color are you wearing tomorrow?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know, I was going to go shopping for a new dress. I’m thinking red, though.”

“I’ll dress to match.” He tugs his shoes on, then takes his cloak off the wall. “I’ll be back this evening.”

“Be safe.”

\----

Vax enters Gilmore’s Glorious Goods, sees three other people waiting at the counter, and ducks behind some shelves to idly browse until they’re gone. He pokes at a few of the cloaks, but they’re all wildly expensive and none of them interest him. Could he get a gift for Uriel here? Is he supposed to do that? He thinks that anti-mind influence tiara there might be a bit rude. He also can’t afford any of the more powerful things without asking Vex for funds, and in that case the whole group might as well get one gift together. That’s probably okay, considering Uriel is a king and will be swamped with presents. He might get Percy or Pike to come back with him later to pick something out.

“I know you’re lurking back there.”

Vax leans around the shelf; Sherri is giving him her best disinterested glare over her glasses. He approaches the counter, then leans against it with his hands clasped on top. “I need to send a message to Gilmore, and I know you have those cool flashpaper thingies….”

She slips a piece of parchment off a shelf under the counter and plucks a peacock-feather quill from its holder. “What’s the message?”

“We’re going to have to reschedule tomorrow night. I won’t be able to make it.”

She looks up at him before the pen meets the paper. “He’s going to be very disappointed.”

Vax shrugs helplessly. “It’s either him or the king.”

“Fair enough.” She scribbles the message down, signs it with a strangely artistic flourish for someone of her dry nature, and in a flash it disappears. “Anything else I can do for you?”

He hesitates. “Should I wait for a reply?”

She sighs. “You could. I’m sure it’s going to be nothing more than an acknowledgement. He’s quite busy over there.”

“I understand.” He does, but even just an acknowledgement would have been nice. Any kind of word, really. “Well, you have a wonderful day, Sherri.”

“You as well, Vax’ildan.”

He turns to go, but stops when he sees a flash of light burst from the back room. Sherri shakes her head, then moves away from the counter to go check inventory elsewhere in the store. The beaded curtain parts, and Gilmore strides out, resplendent in green and gold today. “Is everything alright?” he asks.

“It’s fine, Gil, you didn’t need to come all the way here,” Vax says, noticing the tired droop to Gilmore’s eyes.

“I got Sherri’s message.” He comes over to rest his hands on Vax’s arms. “I was afraid it meant you were leaving town, I didn’t want to miss an opportunity to see you.”

“We’re not leaving, you’ve just been overruled,” Vax says. “The king has a birthday and we’ve been summoned to the festivities.”

“Ah,” says Gilmore, and Vax can tell he’d thought he could do something about the conflict. “Well, I’m not about to step on the king’s toes. You have responsibilities on the council, I understand.”

Vax lightly rests his hands on Gilmore’s waist. “I asked if I could skip this one, but Vex wouldn’t let me.”

“Absolutely not,” he says. “I won’t allow you to start abandoning your duties for my sake. There will be other days.”

A selfish feeling enters his heart, and he doesn’t have the strength to overcome it. “Well, you’re here now.”

Gilmore smiles, but there’s regret in it. “I wish I could indulge,” he says, “but I don’t think I can even manage heading back to Westruun, nor anything else today.”

Vax reaches up to place a hand on his cheek, and moves aside a curl that escaped from his ponytale. “Are  _ you _ alright?”

“I’m fine.” Gilmore takes his hand away from his face, then kisses the knuckles. “I’m with you, after all.” 

“You’re cute.” Vax looks him over, feeling a pang of guilt for expecting him to handle all the romance when he’s already burdened with the new store. “You know… we don’t have to go  _ out _ to spend time with each other.”

Gilmore raises an eyebrow, tilting his head. “Oh?”

Vax presses him back gently, thankful that Gilmore gets the hint to walk backwards so they’re not tripping over themselves. “You have quite a comfortable abode right over there, and you have an able-bodied man ready to wait on you hand and foot.”

“That just seems excessive.”

“I’m sorry, I thought you were a man of excess.” Vax pushes him through the bead curtain, then releases the catch on the noise-cancelling cloth as they enter the room. Gilmore is smiling widely, which is what he was aiming for. He leans up and kisses him softly. “Allow me to spoil you.”

Gilmore sighs, but the look in his eyes is much happier than it was when he arrived. “Oh, I suppose.” He allows Vax to push him onto the bed, but holds onto his hands and doesn’t let go. “What do you plan to do for me?”

Vax cocks his head, wondering what one does for a man with the world at his fingertips. “Are you hungry?”

“I just came from lunch with a few of the suppliers,” he says with a shake of his head. Then a slight smirk. “You’ll have to try harder.”

“Oh, are we past the honeymoon phase already?” Vax leans forward and presses his lips to Gilmore’s forehead. “You’ve got a lot going on. Can I make you lie down and give you a massage?”

Gilmore’s eyebrows go up. “A massage?”

“It’s a thing where I put my hands all over your body and help you relax.”

“Mm, I’m familiar with the concept but I know it by a different name,” he says, pulling Vax closer by the waist. “Yes, I think I’d like a massage very much. In fact, I have a few oils in that cupboard over there, take your pick.”

“Then you get yourself ready.” Vax steps away, then turns to the cupboard. There’s an assortment of things in here that aren’t limited to massage oils, and a notable item present is a glass bottle of expensive lubricant. Vax files that information away for later. There are colognes here, sticks of incense, and skin creams, most of which he’d never think to spend a single coin on, but clearly are things Gilmore invests in. Also something he’ll file for later. For now, he selects a glass vial of oil that smells nice and turns back to the bed.

Gilmore is not lying down as asked, but has removed his robes and shoes so he’s only in his loose pants. He’s standing at a small table, lighting a stick of incense with a flame at the tip of his finger.

This is as undressed as Vax has ever seen Gilmore, and he takes a moment to appreciate it. He’s softer than Vax was expecting, and he truly enjoys the gentle curves about him. He wants to press his fingers into his sides, kiss the softness of his stomach. 

Gilmore turns to see him looking and smiles, but says nothing. He goes to the bed and lies down with his face in the pillows, smooth back gleaming in the soft lights on the walls. Vax goes to him, then stops and decides he ought to get a little more comfortable, too. He pulls off his boots, then his tunic so that he’s just in his trousers, then climbs onto the bed and straddles Gilmore. 

The air fills with the heady aroma of flowers and herbs as he drizzles a bit of oil onto Gilmore’s back, then he caps the bottle and sets it aside before gently spreading the oil around. He hasn’t done a massage with this much atmosphere before, and not many times, either. Mostly Vex’s shoulders, because archery is hard. The concept isn’t complicated, though, so he starts with what he knows and works his way down.

Somewhere around the lower back must be a sweet spot, because Gilmore lets out a lovely little groan every time Vax digs his thumbs in. “Have you been sore?” he asks.

“Not particularly,” he mumbles. “Just tired.”

Vax runs his hands up and down Gilmore’s back, then leans forward to speckle his shoulders with kisses. Gilmore hums contentedly. “Are you feeling better?”

“Mm, certainly worth canceling a few meetings.”

They continue in silence after that. Vax becomes aware of Gilmore's sleepy noises and doesn't wish to disturb him, he just continues to privately thrill in all the ways he’s getting to touch and caress this man’s body. He pays close attention to the sounds Gilmore makes, finding out which spots get the most feedback, and the amount of pressure he finds most pleasant. It’s by no means a professional job, but he knows from experience that sometimes a firm hand and a willingness to go at it a while can be enough. 

After some time, Gilmore murmurs, “Alright, that’s enough.” Vax shifts off of him, and Gilmore rolls back onto his side, looking up at him through heavily lidded eyes. He looks so wonderfully soft and sleepy, not tired like he did when he arrived, and it makes Vax want to do nothing more than lie against him and slide into his arms. He does just this, kissing Gilmore’s forehead, his cheeks, his temples, before sinking into a steady rhythm with his lips.

It’s a moment before he realizes that it isn’t just their proximity to one another, and Gilmore is actively pressing himself into Vax’s leg, seeking firmer contact as he runs his tongue over Vax’s. It makes Vax flush for a moment as he suddenly senses the  _ want _ in Gilmore, but he thinks it’s too soon to do something about it just yet. So he continues to kiss deeply, and subtly indulges that want by shifting his leg to press between Gilmore’s. This only encourages Gilmore, whose actions and touches become more heated, a little more fervent. 

It’s when he feels Gilmore becoming noticeably hard that Vax finally pulls back. “I can take care of that, if you’d like.”

He blinks a few times, as though just coming back to himself. “Hm? Oh.” His eyes glance downward, then he looks back at Vax with a lovely veil of sleepy arousal over his face. “Well, if you’re offering.”

Vax kisses him again, then pushes him onto his back as he moves downward. He’s between Gilmore’s legs now, and doesn’t hurry himself about pulling the trousers off. He just enjoys what’s there, holding Gilmore by the waist as he kisses his stomach and teasingly pulls at his waistband with his teeth. Gilmore gives a somewhat shaky sigh above him, but doesn’t rush things, either, and just gently strokes Vax’s hair with light fingers.

Vax likes the sound of that, so he moves a little lower to start mouthing at Gilmore’s dick through the fabric. It sends a little thrill of anticipation through him, because the size is not inconsiderable. He wants to see. Slowly, he pulls down on Gilmore’s waistband, and discovers a short cloud of dark hair at the base of a long, thick shaft. Vax has enjoyed giving oral only once or twice before, but he can already tell getting Gilmore off like this will be his new favorite hobby.

He slides the pants the rest of the way off, then hooks Gilmore’s knees over his shoulders to get a better angle. He pauses to check Gilmore’s expression, and is not disappointed. His dark eyes lock onto Vax’s, filled with adoration and anticipation. Vax is almost overwhelmed just by how that look makes him feel, but it’s drowned out by the powerful curiosity to see what happens when he really gets going. He grasps hold of the base of Gilmore’s cock and slides his lips down the shaft.

The knees on his shoulders tighten, and he hears a trembling breath. It spurs him onward, squeezing the hand at the base and letting his tongue caress the tip. This brings a slight convulsion to Gilmore, who moves a hand to tangle in Vax’s hair as if for something to hold onto.

Vax loves this, absolutely relishes in the idea that he’s making someone feel  _ so good _ they can’t contain themselves. And that it’s Gilmore is even better to him. The man is good at making himself seem larger than life, but the last couple days in particular have clued Vax in to how hard he works, and how little time he seems to take just for himself. That’s what this is, time to focus solely on Gilmore and what he wants. It’s the least he can do, after dragging him away from all his important meetings. 

Vax dips down as far as he dares to go and twists his wrist a little, rewarded with an involuntary squeeze around his shoulders. When he pulls up, he lingers an extra moment on the tip, and a louder than usual moan tears from deep in Gilmore’s chest. He shifts his hips, pushing up into Vax’s mouth, and it surprises him for only half a second before he welcomes the added pressure. Now that Gilmore is moving, he moves with him, settling into the rhythm that he seems to want, relaxing his throat to go a little deeper. Gilmore is so incredibly thick and heavy on his tongue, filling his mouth in such a wonderful way. It’s been so long, he forgot what this was like, forgot how he loves the sensation of something being just a bit too big to handle. 

Gilmore’s fingers suddenly tighten in his hair. “Vax, I’m….”

He pulls off momentarily. “Close?”

“I’m very close.” His eyes are shut, head tilted back so Vax can see the artistic line of his jaw. 

The absolutely wrecked tone of his voice increases Vax’s enthusiasm. He wants to see what happens when Gilmore really falls apart. He lingers on the sweet spots, twists his hand a few more times, and there’s a marked difference between  _ very close _ and  _ right there.  _ Gilmore’s whole body tenses, his legs tightening. Vax pulls away, pushes the knees off his shoulders, and swiftly moves to capture Gilmore’s mouth in his, swallowing the latest moan. His hand he leaves where it is, stroking firmly, grinding his hips against Gilmore’s.

It takes only seconds. Gilmore breaks away with a gasp only to curl further forward, clutching Vax close as he tucks his chin over his shoulder. Vax continues his stroking, slower, more gently, pressing kisses against Gilmore’s neck as the shaking slows. 

“Oh,” he sighs, loosening his grip as he leans back on the pillows. There’s a stickiness between them now, but Vax will worry about that in a minute. 

“Good?” he asks, drawing a thumb over Gilmore’s cheek.

He just laughs, stroking Vax’s hair, then pulls him down to kiss gently. “You’re wonderful.”

“And you’re gorgeous,” he says with a smile. “Have you a towel?”

He lazily gestures to the left. “The lower cabinet there.” 

Vax kisses him once more before sliding off the silken sheets to get something for cleaning up. He gets the towel, then pauses as he turns back. Gilmore is spread out on the bed, eyes half-lidded as he brushes stray hair out of his face. Vax’s heart has been broken before, but never quite like this, not like something overfull that just can’t contain any more. He wipes himself down, then climbs onto the bed and passes the towel over to Gilmore, who simply leaves it between his legs for now. Vax lies down and settles against his side, wrapping his arms around his chest.

“Hello,” Gilmore says sleepily.

“Hello,” Vax replies, and knows he looks as far gone as he feels.

Gilmore brushes Vax’s hair back from his face. “I suppose this makes up for your cancellation.” 

“I can do more.”

He laughs. “I wouldn’t survive it. You’ve done plenty.” He presses a kiss to Vax’s forehead, then wraps an arm around him to tug him even closer. “To be honest, I needed this more than I knew. Some time to simply relax and not think about work.” He looks at Vax. “I’m infinitely glad you were the one to provide it.”

He ducks his head, grinning. “Happy to.”

They kiss for several moments, before Gilmore breaks away again and rests his forehead against Vax’s. “I’m very tired.”

“Then sleep,” he murmurs. “I’ll be here.”

“The most beautiful words.” He shifts, tugging the blankets out from under them to throw overtop. Vax pulls him in until Gilmore’s head rests in the hollow of his neck and shoulder, then strokes his hair until he hears the deep breathing of sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your wonderful comments, they really keep me motivated to continue. Thank you also for your patience while the holidays put a dent in my writing time. I'll be away again this weekend, so I'll try to update when I have the available content. Love you all, thank you so much!


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vox Machina is bad at parties.

Vex steps out into the courtyard of Greyskull Keep, dressed in all her finery for the party this evening. She's wearing a new dress, because the one she wore to the Briarwoods dinner got a bit ruined, so she and Keyleth had gone shopping and she purchased a dress of deep red, brown, and gold. She feels very regal, especially with her favorite fur stole over her shoulder and gold ribbons threaded through her braid. 

Keyleth and Percy are in the courtyard as well. Percy is in a deep blue jacket and trousers with shiny gold buttons, his best outfit, and Keyleth wears a long, jade-green tunic with a wide blue and white sash to represent her tribe. Percy is currently tugging her to and fro across the flagstones, trying to teach her fashionable dances for the party. She's mostly getting it.

“You should join them,” Vex says to Jarett. “He could give you some pointers.”

Jarett, who is in his best jerkin and nicest, featheriest hat, narrows his eyes. “For that, I will need a pay raise.”

“Almost, almost,” Percy says as he and Keyleth stumble to a stop. 

“I know, I know, just -- one more time?”

He laughs. “As many times as you want.”

Vex watches them for another moment, then looks into the entrance hall as the other party members begin to filter out. First Scanlan, in a brand new silk hat and even more voluminous sleeves. Grog follows, this time with a draping toga specifically made for him instead of ripped from the windows. Clean and fully-bearded, his attempt at formal dress has gone over significantly better than the last. Pike is with him, wearing a fine tabard of Sarenrae and shining silver gauntlets over simple clothes. A braided silver circlet adorns her brow. Last to come down is Vax, dressed simply but nicely in a red and black jerkin, new black boots, and his serpent belt about his waist. He has no hat, but his hair is half braided with gold ribbon, courtesy of Vex.

“Are we all ready, then?” she asks, looking around at the group. “Grog, you look amazing.”

Grog straightens up, holding his chin a little higher and clearly pleased with himself. “Thank you.” 

Three carriages are standing ready beyond the gates to shuttle Vox Machina from the keep to the castle. Jet black against the gathering evening, Vex can’t help but feel that it looks like a funeral procession. They should have requested something less somber, but she didn’t want to spend more money than necessary. It’s fine. They won’t be in the carriages for long. 

Vox Machina piles in. Vex, Vax, Jarett, and Keyleth to one, Percy, Pike, and Scanlan to the second. Grog gets a carriage of his own, and still just barely fits.

“Well,” Keyleth says, smoothing her tunic with only a hint of nervousness, “I hope there aren’t any vampires running around this time.”

“Yes, let’s not get banished from the city or anything,” says Jarett. “I know how you like to party dangerously.”

Vax snorts. “You’re already dating my sister, Jarrett, it’s a bit late to admit you can’t handle us at our best.”

Jarett gives him an offended look. “I don’t believe I said I could not handle you.”

Vex just grins, squeezing his hand as she gazes out the window.

Slower than usual, but still without too much waiting, they arrive at the palace. Other carriages are driving through, dropping off noble passengers before teetering off to park elsewhere. Two elven attendants greet those who step out, welcoming them up the castle steps. It feels a bit hurried once they get to Vox Machina, but not impolite. Vex pities the poor dear who wasn’t expecting Grog to emerge from the third carriage, but the elven man recovers his sensibilities well and offers him the same, if a bit stilted, graciousness that was offered to the others.

It seems almost strange, not being giddily excited to be counted among those invited to the king’s birthday celebration. A party also takes place in the city among the “common folk,” and Vex thinks to herself that she’d almost rather be there. She’d prefer silly carnival games and pie eating contests over floating about the ballroom drinking too much and eating too little. Uriel is a perfectly wonderful king and it is certainly an occasion to celebrate, but there’s a high chance none of them will even speak to him over the course of this party.

But that’s what they get, being adventurers who also happen to be among the political elite. Sooner or later, actual responsibilities develop.

Grog immediately heads for the food and drink table without regard to what the others are doing. He doesn’t know what one does at a fancy party besides eat, and wouldn’t care even if he did. Scanlan is quick to make some lame excuse and join him. 

“Should we follow?” Jarett asks.

Vex shakes her head. “No, maybe once they’ve stepped away. I don’t want to be seen over there while they tear the table to pieces.”

“Wise,” he says with a nod.

Before she’s even realized it, however, everyone else has split off to go in the direction of their interest, so that it’s only Vax, Jarett, and herself standing at the entrance to the ballroom.

“Well,” she says, “I suppose we mingle.”

“I wish we hadn’t already sent all the cool people to Whitestone,” Vax sighs. 

“Ugh, yes, what I wouldn’t give to have Allura to lean on,” Vex agrees. “I think Assum is here somewhere, but fuck if I’d be able to find him.”

“There’s an option,” Vax says. “We could hide.”

“I don’t think we actually can.”

They do their best, though. The three of them shuffle into a back portion of the ballroom, where people are mostly gossipping quietly instead of laughing and being the center of attention. They eventually do get drinks, if only to make the whole affair less unenjoyable, but it’s of little use. There’s not enough to  _ do _ . At least street fairs have games and things to keep their attention. The most entertainment they have here is the music and dancing, which, while nice, isn’t of interest to any of them. Uriel is currently surrounded by people at his table, so they couldn’t speak with him if they even knew what to say.

It’s not a fun party, and Vex is starting to regret dragging Jarett along to see it. Especially because, more than a couple of times, some noble or another approaches their table to ask  _ him _ rather invasive and personal questions. Vex would think it odd that she and Vax go ignored, if she weren’t so incredibly embarrassed for putting Jarett in this situation. He handles it well, however, and somehow manages to shoo them all off after only a couple moments’ conversation.

“Are you all going to just stand here all night?” 

With a slight jump, Vex turns to see the hardened dragonborn councilor, Tofor Brotoras, approaching them from the direction of the door. “Is there anything else?” she asks wryly, taking a sip of her second glass of mead.

As surly as Tofor tends to be, Vex notices a much more amused glint to her eye this evening. “Parties not your forte, Vox Machina?”

“Well, I don’t know, I think the last one went just swimmingly,” Vax says.

She laughs, a new, gutteral sound that they haven’t heard before. “You wish you could be so lucky,” she says. “I bet you’d love to fight a little dirty right now instead of prancing around like showhorses.”

“I  _ like _ dressing up,” Vex says, tugging a bit at the golden feather in her braid. “But that’s about all I like, really. I don’t know anyone here.”

“I’m not even in this class,” Jarett says.

“The presence of other warriors is still appreciated,” Tofor says. “Even if a lot of people here have done their service at one time or another, most are better suited now to the political life.”

“Any tips?” Vax asks.

Tofor gives him a grin. “Remind whoever you’re talking to just how much you deserve your rank. Being assertive is key.” With that, she pats Vax on the shoulder and heads deeper into the crowd of party guests.

Assertive. Great. That can’t get them in trouble at all. Vex sighs and looks around the room, and realizes that her party hasn’t remained in her sights. “That reminds me, have you seen Keyleth anywhere?” she asks. “She usually sticks so close to us.”

Vax glances around. “Not since we walked in, no.”

“Found her,” Jarett says, nodding in the direction of the main drink display. Vex spies the antlers first, then the green tunic. Keyleth is currently swarmed by young noble suitors, all of them eagerly attempting to retrieve drinks for her. Vex can feel the heat of her blush from here. 

“Jarett, would you mind doing a bit of guard duty?” she asks.

He dips his head. “I will rescue her.”

“Thank you, dear.”

Jarett makes his way across the room, politely parting the group of boys to get to Keyleth. Perhaps it’s his confidence, or the air of a dangerous man that lingers around him with or without a weapon, but they melt away from him as soon as he gets close. The feathers of his hat bob above the group, then he’s leading Keyleth away with a hand placed lightly on her back. She’s cherry red and hiding her face, but he’s grinning and seems to be joking easily with her to mitigate the embarrassment. Vex is not a romantic woman, but the entire scene has her utterly charmed by him.

“Assertive,” he says pointedly as he returns Keyleth to the twins.

“Keyleth, darling, are you alright?” Vex asks, allowing her to go straight into her arms. 

“They kept asking me all kinds of questions and trying to get me drinks!” she says. “They were talking all over each other, I didn’t know what to do! I  _ almost  _ used Thunderwave to get them all away.”

“Thank goodness you did not,” Jarett says.

Vex strokes her hair sympathetically. “Dear, they think you’re pretty, they were trying to woo you.”

“Woo me?”

“Trying to win your affections.”

“I know what woo means,” she huffs. “But they were all in my space and I didn’t get a chance to speak. How were they even going to know if they were successful?”

“Usually they decide when they are,” Vax says. “They’re young nobles descended from generations of nobility, they take what they want. Might want to stay near us from now on, we’re too scary for them to bother.”

“Eh, I know their type,” Jarett says with a shrug. “Mostly bluster, very little bite. They will back down at the first sign of confrontation, do not worry.”

“Tofor said to be assertive,” Vex says. “A lot of people in here want to take whatever they can get from you. Just remind them what a badass druid you are and they’ll go away.”

She looks over at the crowd forming up for dances, shaking her head. “These aren’t the parties I’m used to,” she says. “Urgh, why is  _ this _ hard? Why can I run around in the sewers fighting ghosts but just the  _ idea _ of people talking to me makes me want to flee?”

“Because this isn’t your idea of fun or honest work,” Jarett says. “But while it’s part of your job, it’s not the whole job. Making nice with people gets you more of the work you like. It’s the business model of every freelancer.”

“I’m sure being utterly charming helps a bit,” Vex says with a slight smirk.

He looks between the ladies. “And who said you weren’t charming? All of these people  _ want _ to dance with you, you just have to be discerning about who  _ gets _ to dance. You see?”

Percy chooses this moment to materialize out of the crowd. “Vax,” he says, eyes alight with energy. “Come have a dance with me.”

Vax looks at him flatly. “I’m not dancing with you.”

“Oh, come on, not even once?” he says. “Vex would dance with me.”

“Vex can do as she likes.”

Percy deflates slightly, though his smile doesn't waver. Keyleth skips forward, taking his hands. “I'll dance with you, Percy!”

“Well, thank you.”

“Are we dancing?” asks a new voice from somewhere behind Vex. Vax's eyes go wide, so she turns and sees Gilmore standing behind her, resplendent in deep blue robes with gold trim. 

“Gil,” Vax says. “You didn't tell me you'd _ also _ been invited to Uriel's birthday.”

He shrugs with a smile. “Surprises, Vax.” Then, at Vax's narrowed eyes, he steps forward and places his hands on his shoulders. “I had forgotten, darling. There were a number of things to remember for the week, I wouldn't have made those other plans if I'd remembered.”

“Double booking now, are we?” Vex says with a raised eyebrow. “Careful, Gilmore, I expect my brother to have your complete attention.”

“Oh, believe me, Vex,” he says, lightly taking Vax's hand to kiss it. “He has no trouble getting my attention.”

“Keyleth, let's have that dance now,” Percy says rather suddenly, tugging her hand.

“But -- oh, okay.”

Vex turns her gaze to them, brow furrowing slightly. It's not like Percy to skip intellectual banter with Gilmore, and certainly not in a situation where he's meant to flaunt those talents. There's a tightness to his eyes when he smiles, a somewhat distracted air to him.

Not too distracted to give Keyleth a good time, luckily. He's graceful in how he leads, keeping them out of the thick of the dancers to give her space. She's enjoying herself and her new skills, and that's what matters for the moment, but Vex is cataloging this. Something to corner him about later.

“Vex,” says Gilmore, calling her attention back to the current company. “May I be introduced to your date?”

She rouses herself, remembering that not everyone in the world magically knows Gilmore. “Yes, this is Jarett Howarth, he's the head of our guard at Greyskull Keep. Jarett, this is our dear friend Gilmore, of Gilmore's Glorious Goods.”

“I've heard quite a bit about you,” Jarett says as he shakes Gilmore's hand. “Many wonderful things. Glorious things, some might even say.”

He laughs. “I should hope. Your accent is familiar to me, are you out of Ank'harel?”

“I am indeed.”

As the two begin talking about their mutual homeland, Vex slips over to her brother and takes hold of his arm. “Percy seemed a little sore you wouldn't give him a dance.”

“He'll get over it,” Vax says, a little stiffly.

She gives him a look. “Is everything alright between you two? He's been off lately.”

“Everything's fine.” When she continues to stare at him, he shrugs and says again, “It's fine. Of course he’s off, Vex, he’s been off since Whitestone.”

“Alright.” She leaves him alone, drifting back to Jarett. “Sorry to interrupt, but I could use another drink and I'm going to steal him away.”

Gilmore puts a hand to his chest. “Of course, don't let me keep you. Come by the shop some time, Jarett, I might have something for that crossbow.”

“Oh, I imagine Vex will get me there soon, don't worry,” Jarett says, stepping away with Vex. Once they're out of earshot, he puts a hand over the one she has on his arm. “Everything alright?”

“Oh, fine,” she sighs. “People being difficult, that's all.”

“Anything I can do?”

She grimaces. “Doubtful. Not much I can do either, honestly.”

He leans over to kiss her temple. “Then let us have several drinks, and forget our worries. It's the king's party, he would not want us to worry.”

“Alright, you've convinced me.”

They head over to a smaller refreshment table set up by a stone fountain. The corner here is less populated, and a little cooler for the lack of bodies. Even if this was a good party, her friends would find a way to ruin it. There's always  _ something _ , and she always feels like the only one to notice.

And Jarett seems to have noticed something is amiss himself, but has clearly decided his job is to make the atmosphere more enjoyable, rather than to solve every problem that comes along. He is calm, casual, but attentive. It helps. It makes her feel a little more special.

“May I say, Lady Vex'ahlia,” Jarett says, setting his drink on the table to lift one of her hands, “you do look utterly ravishing tonight.”

He says “ravishing” so roguishly it almost makes her laugh. “Not much of a romantic, he tells me.”

“I cannot help it, you draw these things out of me, what am I to do?” 

“You're ridiculous,” she says as he kisses her hand.

“I'm infatuated.”

“And you're making a scene.”

With a start, Vex turns, and manages to not blush when she sees the small, compact form of Seeker Assume. “Ah, hello, darling, I didn't see you there.”

He heavily side-eyes her as he gets himself a drink. “It's that infatuation.”

“Right, of course it is.” He's a dangerous man, possibly one of the most dangerous in the kingdom, and she shouldn't tease. But Vex has never been able to resist teasing someone.

“Regardless, I have it on good authority that your bringing a date was a wise move, if you're so politically inclined to care,” he says.

Jarett cocks his head a bit. He likely knows Assum at least in passing, the Master of Secrets having visited Greyskull Keep before, but probably doesn't know what to do with information gained from him. Vex is curious. People talk, they always do, but she didn't think anyone of importance would have anything to say about her date. “Is that so?” she says.

“Vox Machina has been fairly self-contained since you arrived in Emon and joined the Council,” says Assum. “The recent accusations only did more to single you out. The lords and ladies are all curious about your guest, but a few steps higher, people are taking this as a sign that at least some of you have interests outside of causing trouble. It's good to have hobbies.”

Jarett barks out a loud laugh, then hides behind his glass as he drinks.

Vex tries to process this quickly. There are always eyes on them, yes, as rather exciting and high-profile members of society, but she's not sure how to feel about Jarett being seen as a “hobby.” He's not some piece she's using in a game, and she couldn't have cared less about political matters when she decided to sleep with him. On the other hand, it's probably a good thing that people on the council, whom Assum is no doubt referencing, are starting to think that Vox Machina aren't more trouble than they're worth. 

“You're not pawns,” Assum says. “But public opinion matters. Just know that you're doing well, and people are pleased.”

“Am I supposed to say thank you?” Vex asks, just this side of challenging.

“You can do, as you usually do, whatever you want,” he says, stepping away. “Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Howarth.”

“Oh, the pleasure's mine,” Jarett says, too eagerly to be genuine. As Assum leaves, he turns back to Vex. “I've had ladies asking me invasive questions all night. He didn't even have to talk to me for me to feel twice as uncomfortable.”

“Oh, he's good at that,” she says, taking a deep drink of her wine. “I'm sorry. I didn't do this for anyone's approval.”

Jarett laughs, a little more genuinely than before. “This, I have no trouble believing.” He takes her hand again, squeezing lightly. “Do not worry, these people don't scare me. They are weird, and a little rude, but I'm fine.”

She's lucky. She knows she's incredibly lucky, because a lesser man would have walked away probably a week after being hired. He doesn't need to put up with everything he does, and yet he seems to get a sort of entertainment from it all that keeps him around. Vex squeezes his hand back and raises her glass. “As soon as Uriel gives his speech, we’re gone.”

“If we can even last that long.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, I'm back, this work hasn't been abandoned. More to come soon! Check out my author's bio for original stuff you can read between updates.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vax and Gilmore ditch the party for something more fun

Vax wishes he could feel like having fun. The evening started with a lack of interest in the festivities, and has morphed its way into anxiety as the night wore on. 

And it’s not Gilmore’s fault. It’s Percy’s.

Vax can’t get that small, insignificant exchange out of his head. The invitation to dance, the disappointment at his refusal, Vex suspecting a problem. That means there is a problem, and Vax had sincerely hoped to avoid one. 

Gilmore's presence  _ should _ make everything better, but it's mostly serving to make Vax more nervous. He doesn't feel that he's at his best right now, and being so conscious of Percy's weird mood is making  _ him _ weird. He shouldn't be. They discussed  _ twice _ that their little affair was nothing of substance and that Vax is free to do as he pleases, so  _ why _ does he now have Vex on his case about it?

He didn't want to think of it as a mistake, but now he might have to change that definition. 

“Vax?” says Gilmore after Vax waits too long to answer a question. “Is everything alright?”

He can't explain this to him, especially here, so he just gestures vaguely at the room. “Parties make me nervous.”

His eyebrows go up. “Oh. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, but you'd always seemed to enjoy yourself in crowded taverns and the like.”

“I know what to expect in a tavern.”

“Fair enough.” He looks around. “Should we find a more quiet corner?”

He knows he's shoving his foot in his mouth for this, and cringes internally the entire time as he says, “Actually, Gilmore, I know you have a certain amount of work  _ you _ have to do at these things, and I don't want to take away from that.”

Gilmore opens his mouth, clearly on the verge of brushing off networking responsibilities for the evening, when he seems to realize what Vax is asking. There's a moment in which he seems to be confused, then says, “You're right, of course. Many opportunities for buying and selling when the rich and popular are abound.” He puts a hand on Vax's shoulder. “If you need me, I'll be in the biggest knot of nobles you can find.”

Vax laughs with him, but the smile fades as soon as Gilmore has turned his back. Now he feels terrible about that, too. He looks around, spotting his sister by a decorative fountain, and heads over. There won't be much to say, as he can't even specifically say what's upsetting him right now, but being around her is better than standing off in some corner by himself.

Vex instantly picks up on his mood as he approaches. “What happened? Where's Gilmore? What did you do?”

“Easy,” he says, holding up a hand. “He has other things to do.”

Vex’s eyes narrow slightly, more doubtful than full-on suspicious, but Jarett speaks before she does. “Well, all the better. If I have  _ two _ scary siblings flanking me, perhaps the lords and ladies will stop asking after my lands.”

Vax looks at Vex. “You dressed him too nicely.”

“He dressed himself.” She reaches up to bat lightly at the feather in his hat. “It’s his plumage, all the rich birds flock to him.”

Jarett looks away with a roll of his eyes, then stiffens and shoes her hand away. “Stop fluffing it, you’re drawing attention.”

Vax glances over to see several young women of the court making their way over, a few with decorative fans gently waving. He internally heaves a sigh, bracing himself for what he deems the worst part of being any sort of celebrity. The false accusations and perilous quests are all well and good until heavily beautified nobles start wanting their attention. 

“Pardon me,” says the woman in front, a lady with artfully curled red hair. “But aren’t you members of the esteemed Vox Machina?”

“No,” Jarett says, immediately and truthfully. 

“Oh, but they are, certainly!” says a bright-eyed blonde. “You’re the twins, Vex’ahlia and Vax’ildan. Oh, the stories we’ve heard.”

“You’re even lovelier in person,” sighs a second blonde, whom Vax notes is actually eyeing Vex as she says this.

Neither of the twins knows how to respond to this, and Jarett clearly doesn’t want any part in it. “Well, thanks,” Vax says. He hesitates to pull the “we’re spoken for” card, because he absolutely doesn’t want to drag either of their partners into a spotlight they don’t want.

“Would you mind a dance?” asks the blonde sidling up to Vex.

“Oh, dear,” she says with a smile and a light blush, “I’m afraid I couldn’t.”

“But it’s the king’s birthday! Surely you mean to dance!”

“Surely you do,” says a woman with a chestnut updo as she presses closer to Vax. “Has anyone even asked you at all?”

“Er-“

“They’re playing the loveliest song, please say you will!”

“We’re not much for dancing, I’m afraid,” Vex says, carefully stepping away from her fan.

“Not even one?”

“Unfortunately, Lady Vex’ahlia and Lord Vax’ildan are indisposed at the moment,” Jarett says, smoothly intervening as he’s been doing all night. “There is also business to be done at these parties, as you esteemed ladies must know.”

For once, his charms don’t appear to work. “It’s a party,” the redhead whines. “Have a bit of fun, it won’t hurt.”

“As she said,” Vax tries, “we aren’t much for dancing.”

“You just haven’t danced with  _ us _ .” She reaches for his hands, and misses when he steps back. She huffs. “Oh, don’t be rude, it’s impolite to refuse a lady.”

“I think you’re the ones being rude,” he says, which earns an offended gasp from the four of them. “We have declined your offer. Your efforts are best spent elsewhere.”

“You can’t say  _ no _ -“

Jarett finally steps fully forward. Even without weapons, Vax appreciates that he knows how to look suitably dangerous. “Ladies,” he says firmly, all careful politeness gone from his voice, “the Councilors have asked that you leave. You can either step away, or I will have to escort you myself, and it will not be an enjoyable affair.”

At last, they take the hint. With a few dirty looks shot over their shoulders, the ladies finally turn and leave the twins alone. Vax is grateful, of course, as this is infinitely better than having them continue to pester, but he also hates that now he’s embarrassed. He has no head for public appearances, and doesn’t know how to handle people he’s not allowed to be outright aggressive with. Aggression has usually worked in the past to avoid getting killed, but when the stakes aren’t quite so high, he doesn’t know how to correctly balance his actions. He doesn’t like that Jarett, who isn’t actually here in a guard capacity, has to protect them from girls in frilly dresses. 

Mostly, he doesn’t like the eyes on him. He didn’t like the looks from those women, and he doesn’t like the looks they’re getting now that there’s been  _ a scene _ . People are always looking at them now that they’re so popular, and he absolutely cannot stand that feeling. He’s a rogue, he’s not meant to be looked at.

It just isn’t his night. Between this and feeling uncomfortable being with Gilmore while Percy acts like an asshole, Vax wishes he hadn’t come at all. 

“Vax, darling,” Vex says when he’s stood quietly for too long. “We can go somewhere else, maybe find some food.”

“I think I’m just going to get some air,” he says, stepping away before his sister can argue. She wants to help, he knows she does, but even if she could, he’d rather be alone.

There is a balcony that is currently unoccupied. A small table stands nearby with tamped out tobacco and empty glasses, which tells him someone else might come along eventually, but for now he can use it for some quiet. The fresh air is like splashing cold water on his face, and he finally feels able to breathe, maybe a bit cleaner. He didn’t realize just how hot he’d gotten inside with all those people and all the tension that came with them.

He just doesn’t like parties. If he’s not doing some sort of covert work, he doesn’t know what to do with himself and always ends up feeling foolish. He doesn’t want to be an embarrassment, to himself or to the others, or even the king, but it’s hard to say or do the right thing when he’d much rather everyone just leave him alone. 

Maybe that’s what drew him to Keyleth so much. Neither of them is any good with social graces, he didn’t feel the need to impress her. But she’s currently inside the party dancing and having a wonderful time with Percy, so clearly she’s doing something right everywhere he’s doing something wrong.

The dull sound of chatter sharply increases as the balcony door opens. His moment alone is over, so Vax turns to take his leave when he realizes who joined him and stops. “Gil.”

Gilmore’s larger-than-life party persona has dropped, and there’s worry mixed with confusion in his eyes. “Sorry,” he says. “I’m sure you wanted to be alone, but-“

“You’re always welcome,” Vax says quickly, waving a hand.

Gilmore pauses, frowning. “Please don’t pretend for me.”

Vax hesitates, surprised, and rethinks his response. “I wanted to be alone,” he says slowly. “And I’m always glad for your company. But I don’t feel that  _ I’m _ particularly good company right now.”

This succeeds in easing that worry more than his generic placations had. “Is it alright if I come out here with you?”

Vax loves that he asks. “Yes,” he says, because Gilmore may be the only person that might make him feel less lonely right now.

He closes the balcony door and moves to the railing to join him, looking out over the castle courtyard. “The beauty of this being a party for the king,” he says mildly, “is that we’re not going to ruin his fun by not having any.”

“Do you think he’s having fun?” Vax asks.

Gilmore smiles thoughtfully. “I don’t think anyone has had the presence of mind to ask.”

Vax sure wouldn’t be. Hundreds of people, most of whom he doesn’t personally know, all using his palace and his birthday as a backdrop to their own drama sounds like the opposite of a good time. 

“I hope I didn’t upset you earlier,” he says.

Gilmore shakes his head. “I was a bit surprised, is all. I grew used to you eagerly accepting my company, but I can appreciate you asking for space when you need it. It makes me feel more wanted when you do permit my presence.”

That serves to make Vax relax a bit. He can certainly understand the need to know when he’s wanted, and when he’s merely tolerated. He makes a mental note to keep this in mind for the future, so that he doesn’t end up putting the both of them in an uncomfortable situation just to be polite.

It’s quiet between the two of them for a bit. They’ve never had such amicable silence before, with Gilmore being a man of many words, and Vax always wanting to talk about his adventures. It’s nice, to feel the need for quiet is appreciated, and it gives Vax time to think about what he wants to do now.

He thinks, if Gilmore wants honesty, that it might be best to go for full transparency.

“Gil,” he starts, “earlier, when I needed my space, there was a bit more going on than just party noise.”

Gilmore looks over, just curious now. “Is something wrong?”

Vax sighs, and leans more heavily against the railing. “There’s something that’s been on my mind, and I’m afraid that it will always be on my mind when I’m with you, so I think it’s better to be honest.” He looks at Gilmore. “The person I slept with, shortly before you asked me on a date. It was Percy.”

There is surprise, but it’s mild and contains no trace of anger. “Oh.”

“What I’ve already said about it is true,” Vax says. “I wasn’t in a good place when I did it, but I didn’t see it as a mistake. I wasn’t seeing anyone, and we both agreed that it needn’t continue.”

Gilmore seems to already see where this is going as he says, “But…?”

“But now I’m not sure if it’s as over and done as I thought,” Vax says, and he can’t keep the defeat out of his voice. “I don’t have feelings for him, Gil. At least, not like with you. I wasn’t — I hadn’t realized-“

“That maybe there’d be lasting damage?” Gilmore eyes him, not accusingly, but he is holding him accountable. Vax finds he can’t hold the gaze. “I’ll confess, I don’t know Percival as well as I’d like, but I do know how well he keeps up appearances. I won’t say you did anything wrong, and I don’t think it would be my place to do so, anyway. I  _ do _ think perhaps neither of you knows how to handle what you did and that you’re both handling it poorly.”

Vax straightens up at that. “I’m not handling it poorly,” he says. “I explained to him what I had expected and what I wanted going forward, and he agreed to that. Twice. Whatever he’s doing now, that’s  _ him _ handling it poorly.”

“Because you’re parading me in front of him now.”

Vax’s mouth hangs agape. “ _ Parading _ -“

Gilmore holds up a hand. “I’m not going to speculate. What seems obvious to me may not be the reality, and I will not get involved in this. What are your feelings?”

Vax is still reeling from being accused of parading anything, but manages to gather himself to say, “I had an infatuation, but it’s gone. Our friendship is about eight levels of complicated right now, but I’d rather not lose him if I can help it, I’m just not sure how. I just wanted to explain that so I didn’t feel like I was keeping secrets from you.”

Gilmore waves a hand as he leans against the railing again. “Then that’s all I need to know. I won’t compete for your affections, Vax.”

He shakes his head. “You won’t have to.”

“And so I’m comfortable. Whatever is going on, whatever develops, I trust you to talk to me if you need to.” He reaches over to take one of Vax’s hands, then kisses it so gently that a shiver goes down his spine. It feels far too intimate for the setting, even if they are alone. “I trust you, Vax,” he says again, more quietly.

The weight of that trust worms its way into his heart. He wants to be good enough, he wants to deserve that trust, and he can’t think of anything he might conceivably do to break it, but it still scares him somehow. How could Gilmore say such things while Vax confesses what he's done with Percy? Clearly, he doesn't make the best decisions. He doesn't trust himself, much less feel worthy of trust from someone else.

“Vax,” Gilmore says quietly. He waits patiently for Vax to refocus. “We could leave.”

He bites his lip. “Before Uriel gives his speech? I thought-”

“Do you think anyone will notice?”

He shrugs, shaking his head. “I don’t know. Maybe? People notice weird shit around here.”

“They won’t notice, and they won’t care,” Gilmore says firmly. “And if they do, so what? You'll still be the first person they call next time there's a giant monster on the loose. I feel you've perhaps earned your freedom, have you not?”

Well, when put that way, Vax isn't sure what he was so scared of to begin with. The fact remains, he’d rather be anywhere but here, and there isn’t actually anyone around to stop him. He nods to Gilmore, who smiles and takes his hand to lead him off the balcony.

His sister and Jarett are no longer in the spot they’d claimed before, and Vax doesn’t pause to look for them. He hopes no one sees him leave, so no one can stop him with questions. Gilmore restrains the pace just enough for them to not look as though they’re fleeing, but as soon as they reach the foyer, Vax almost breaks into a jog to the first elven attendant he sees.

“Yes, erm, I need one of Vox Machina’s carriages?” he says. He’s not sure how this whole valet thing works, but he assumes that if they left a carriage, surely it will come back to bring them home.

“Why don’t we take mine?” Gilmore says. “I’d imagine your friends would prefer to reserve one for Grog.”

Grog can walk home for all Vax cares, and would very likely prefer it, but he won’t say no to a ride in Gilmore’s personal coach. Gilmore puts in his request to the confused attendant much more smoothly, and soon enough, a purple carriage with gold trim clatters up behind two roan horses.

“Branding?” Vax says, giving Gilmore a look.

He smiles. “I realize you’re a rogue, Vax, but you must realize you’re involved with the most conspicuous man in Emon.”

This is true, and Vax feels the need to bend his brain a bit to figure out how that happened.

They get into the carriage. Before the driver closes his door, Gilmore leans out to tell him the destination, but Vax puts a hand on his arm. “To Greyskull Keep, please,” he says.

Gilmore raises an eyebrow.

“You haven’t seen it yet,” Vax says. “Might as well go now while everyone’s gone.”

Gilmore shrugs. “I’m not going to argue.”

It was a split-second decision, but Vax tries not to make himself nervous over it. His room is clean, to the best of his knowledge. It’s still early enough that Laina and Erwen will be up, so perhaps he can be the one to offer Gilmore some food this time. Or, they can simply ask for privacy and….

He won’t plan for that. There’s a very good chance Gilmore will not want to sleep with him for a bit after learning about Percy, regardless of the understanding he displayed. Vax wouldn’t blame him.

“My god,” Gilmore murmurs. Vax pulls himself out of his thoughts to see what Gilmore is looking at, and realizes he’s taking his first look at the keep. In that moment, he’s reminded that his home is actually truly impressive.

“Oh, that old thing?” he says, earning a wide smile from Gilmore. 

“If I’m not careful, people might start to think I’m a gold digger.”

Vax snorts loudly. “You’re such an intelligent man, Gil, why would people think you’d only date a complete disaster like me for the money and social perks?”

Gilmore slips his hand into Vax’s. “Let’s just say it’s a good thing that other people don’t have to know my reasons.”

Wow. Vax gives Gilmore a look, having not expected him to run with the joke, and slowly raises a hand to his chest. “Gil.”

He casts his eyes skyward. “Vax, no one thinks you’re a disaster but you.”

“Your options aren’t limited to ‘insults’ and ‘lies,’ you know.”

“You’ve saved the city and the sovereign on a number of occasions at great cost to yourself, you are a hero to the public. Let’s be honest, darling, neither of us needs the financial or social perks brought by the other, they’re just an enjoyable bonus to already enjoyable things.”

Vax had only been teasing, but it does give him a warm fuzzy feeling to hear Gilmore sees genuine worth in him. That had never been called into question, but hearing it from such an impressive man is an incredible confidence boost.

The carriage rolls to a stop outside of the keep. Vax and Gilmore take a moment to settle just where the vehicle and driver are going to go in the meantime, and then they walk inside together. 

Erwen greets them at the entrance.

“Master Vax,” he says, nodding. “And…?”

“This is Gilmore, he’s my guest for the night,” Vax says. “We left the festivities a bit early.”

“Is there anything I can do for you?” he asks. “I can have Laina bring out some food, perhaps?”

Vax looks to Gilmore. “Are you hungry?”

He thinks for a moment. “Perhaps in a bit. I’d much rather get the tour first.”

Vax shrugs, then allows Erwen to be dismissed as they continue on through the foyer. They pass by the shrine to Serenrae, which Gilmore deems an “utterly beautiful slice of quiet.” The meeting room, which Vox Machina uses a lot less than they thought they would, and the dining hall, which ended up taking the duties of the meeting room. Tiberius’ old laboratory is next — Gilmore takes an extended interest in this, and Vax allows him to indulge. They don’t go downstairs, however, because there’s nothing but Percy’s workshop and the cells, and Vax has many reservations about taking Gilmore directly to the place that started so much trouble. Upstairs, all that’s really left to see is the bath room.

“There’s a lot of space,” Vax says, “but most of it is bedrooms and very high ceilings. We’ve not done much to it since it was built.”

“I’m well aware that a keep’s purpose is defense more than showmanship,” Gilmore says. “Tell me, is this a place of refuge you’d allow others to use in a crisis?”

Vax looks up and down the open halls, thinks of how little room they take up even when fully staffed and occupied. “I cannot imagine,” he says, “closing those gates to anyone who needed safety. I think luck played a large hand in how we obtained this keep, and if we’re supposed to serve the people of Emon, then we’ll grant them refuge whenever necessary. I imagine their taxes paid for a lot of this, anyway.”

Gilmore is looking at him fondly, and while the question didn’t seem like a test, the answer clearly pleases him. “Selfless, for a rogue.”

His lips form a tight line for a moment. “My father is a nobleman. He extended very little courtesy to Vex and I when we needed him most. I never intended to be part of nobility, but if we’re headed that route, then I aim to be as little like him as possible. I don’t need much. The rest can go to those who do need it.”

Gilmore inspects a tapestry on the wall, one of several custom tapestries throughout the keep that bear the symbol of the Council of Tal’dorei. “I’m curious what you think of me.”

Vax looks at him in surprise. “I thought it was obvious?”

He gives a half-shrug. “As quickly as this has progressed, we’re still new to this. There’s still much to discover.” He looks at Vax, expression curious, but carefully neutral. “This isn’t the first time you’ve expressed an aversion to aspects of society that I deal with regularly. I wonder if you’ve simply chosen to ignore them in my case.”

This is quite a heavy question. Vax can’t think of an answer for a moment, because he hasn’t thought about why Gilmore’s high-society nature doesn’t bother him, when such things have bothered him in nearly every other circumstance. He didn’t think he needed a reason to not be bothered, but perhaps he can understand why it would be an important distinction of being unbothered, or ignoring the issue entirely. 

“You’re a businessman,” he says. “What you do is business. And I know the allure of your store is that you enchant most of those items yourself, because you’re brilliant and talented enough to do it. You’re not some fat merchant getting rich by selling someone else’s labor at ridiculous prices. And you-“ He pauses, trying to wrangle his words together, but finds it difficult now that certain feelings are trying to worm their way into his logic. “Gilmore, you don’t like that I put myself in danger for my job, but you wouldn’t tell me to stop. I don’t like politicking, but you’re very good at it and I’m not about to tell you not to. But all of that aside….” He looks up, then steps closer to Gilmore until they’re nearly occupying the same little space before the tapestry. “It’s  _ you _ , Gil. You’re the exception. You’re honest with me, and you genuinely care about things, and that’s different enough to count. You’re a good man.”

It is visible, how much this eases fears Gilmore hadn’t let show. His shoulders relax, and he places his hands on Vax’s waist. “Is it silly how much I want you to like me?”

Vax laughs. “I do like you quite a bit.”

Gilmore smiles, then leans down to kiss him. It starts out gentle, like he only means to take a moment, but soon deepens and lingers. It’s almost exploratory, despite how much they’ve kissed at this point, as if they’re both still new to the sensation of kissing someone who wants to kiss back just as much. 

And then it becomes something else. Then Gilmore tugs Vax in to be flush against him, still moving slow, and his lips move to Vax’s jaw, and then his neck. Vax lets it happen without a smart comment this time, pushing away thoughts that threaten to distract him and instead focusing on the sensation of gentle pressure on sensitive skin. He puts himself in this moment, in feeling so wanted, and the mild thrill that Gilmore is all over him in the middle of the hallway. 

“Can I see your room?” Gilmore asks when their breathing has turned to something heavier.

Vax will never not be amused at how Gilmore can be direct while being so indirect. A gentleman, but a gentleman who knows what he wants. He doesn’t answer, instead pulling Gilmore in for another searing kiss, then takes him by the hand and leads him around the corner. 

His room is not special, just dark. Black carpet and bedclothes, no windows. He fumbles for a moment with the wall lamp with Gilmore’s hands still on him, but after a moment, Gilmore gets impatient and just waves a hand. The two lamps in the room burst to life, and Vax finds himself staring at all the clothes he’d laid out on the bed during his indecision over what to wear. In one sweep, he snatches them all off the bed and tosses them in a pile on the floor.

“Careless,” Gilmore teases.

“Eager,” Vax says.

This fuels the fire in Gilmore’s eyes, and he continues to press forward until he has Vax sitting at the edge of the bed. Vax busies himself with undoing the buttons of Gilmore’s tunic, then slides the article off his shoulders. He drinks in the sight of that hairy chest and bronzy skin, and immediately indulges in tasting it. Gilmore gives a contented hum, wrapping his arms around Vax while Vax kisses every inch of the torso in front of him. He starts to move down, starts to tug on the waistband, but Gilmore gently stops him. 

He says nothing, but he begins to undo Vax’s jerkin, and Vax gets the hint that he’s too overdressed for them to start in on anything. He eagerly removes his cloak, his jerkin, his shirt, and doesn’t get much farther before Gilmore apparently deems this sufficient and starts pressing him further back on the bed.

It’s that teenagers thing again. Vax feels wild and ten years younger, fumbling around in the dark with some hot young human he met at a tavern. He thanks the gods he’s  _ not _ a teenager, though, because now he knows how to respond and how to reciprocate. And he’s also grateful that Gilmore isn’t some spontaneous hookup, because he’s so careful in his ministrations, so deliberate in how he wants to treat Vax. He moves and touches with the intent to please, to show he knows what he’s doing and already knows what Vax will like. 

“How long has it been?” Gilmore asks quietly.

Vax pauses, summoning enough brain power to answer. “Erm. Not long. But last time was — rough.”

Gilmore kisses his cheek and murmurs, “Then I’ll be gentle.”

A slower shiver has never gone down Vax’s spine as it does then, starting at the base of his neck and traveling all the way to his tailbone to press his hips up into Gilmore’s hold. At times, it seems his body moves of its own accord, lithe muscles tensing and surging, always forward, ever toward the man above him. 

He doesn’t jest. He doesn’t take control. He gives of himself entirely.

Gilmore starts him off with his mouth, ministrations firm and lingering up and down Vax’s cock. He keeps Vax still with a hand on his hip, thumb digging into the bone, making his presence known. But he does not stay here too long, no, he has other plans this night. 

“Hold on,” he murmurs, and leans off the bed to retrieve what appears to be a bag of holding. 

Vax takes the moment to catch his breath, and smiles slightly. “You came prepared,” he says, watching Gilmore withdraw a familiar vial and a small wooden box.

“I’m always prepared,” he says before pulling off the stopper of the vial. 

Percy had not been cruel when he’d had his way with Vax, and he hadn’t necessarily been irresponsible. But he’d been fast, maybe afraid that they didn’t have much time, and the prelude to the main event had been somewhat rushed. Gilmore rushes nothing. In fact, he is agonizingly slow, working one finger in and out until he deems Vax is relaxed enough, then two, and so on. Vax has experience. He’s had different partners who all brought something different, but Gilmore is so far the most singularly focused on making certain that nothing hurts.

Vax forgot he could do anything without being hurt by it.

“Gil,” he finally says, quiet, strained. “Enough playing.”

Gilmore’s only response is to withdraw, then lean in to positively drape himself over Vax. He finds he likes the pressure, the dampness of skin meeting skin. He waits, and then feels it — Gilmore, slowly and carefully pushing his way in.

It’s certainly not fingers. Vax tries to control his ragged breathing, to focus and just hold on. Gilmore’s arms are practically trembling on either side of him as he supports himself, clearly restraining desires to move faster.

It gets better as he moves. Gilmore’s rhythm is steady, a slow build, and just strong enough to be eager. The motion helps, makes it all less overwhelming for Vax, gives him a pattern to work with until Gilmore starts to drive in a little harder. Sweat slicks the backs of Vax’s legs, and he lifts his feet to bring them behind Gilmore’s back, adjusting the angle just enough to make him  _ really _ feel it. He gasps aloud, grunts, and Gilmore answers with a surprisingly loud moan. He moves a little faster, thrusts a little more erratically like he’s having a hard time staying focused.

“Vax,” he gasps, his breath laborious at this point. “Mm, you feel… incredible….”

Vax does not answer. He does not have the air or the presence of mind, as Gilmore fills every inch of him. Beard hair scratches at his neck, followed quickly by greedy lips, and then teeth. Vax’s fingers are twisted in Gilmore’s soft hair, pulling, the only thing that’s grounding him now. His back arches, changing the angle, seeking more, and it causes Gilmore to falter and gasp. “Vax, please, I’m not sure how much longer-“

“Come on,” he says tightly, and moves a hand down to grasp himself. It’s a lot, having someone inside him, working in him this way, and while he’s obsessed with the feeling and knows that nothing can compare, it’s usually not quite enough. And that’s fine. He wants Gilmore to have this, and he knows what will get himself there just as well. 

And with all that’s going on, it’s not going to be much longer for him, either.

The sounds from Gilmore grow more urgent. The air in the room tightens with anticipation, so Vax puts himself directly into this moment to enjoy every piece of it. It’s like time slows as he focuses on the feel of Gilmore’s skin underneath his fingers, the sounds of pleasure mingling with desperation bouncing off the stones of his room. It’s beautiful, it’s whole, somehow purer than Vax ever expected. Because it  _ means _ something. It’s special for both of them to be here, to make the other feel this good.

“I’m-“

“Yes.”

Gilmore thrusts hard, pauses, mouth open, and then once more. Vax’s fingers dig into the flesh of his back as he twists his other hand, and pleasure rockets through his body like thunder. Wet stickiness drips over his wrist and stomach, and then tension immediately leaves the room, creating an openness in its wake.

For several seconds, they don’t move. Gilmore catches his breath, and Vax lightly strokes the place where his nails just made small dents. Then Gilmore pulls out, removes his delicate sheath, and rolls onto his back. After a moment, Vax takes hold of the top blanket, pulls it from under himself, and uses it to clean up. Once it’s tossed into a crumpled ball at the foot of the bed, Gilmore weakly takes him by the wrist and dots his forearm with soft kisses.

“I’m glad for every moment with you,” he says, “but this is among the finest.”

With a tired, lazy smile, Vax shifts to lie against Gilmore’s side. “More enjoyable than the party.”

“And with every moment more, I find I’m starting to dread when you inevitably vanish again.” He tilts his head, vissing Vax’s temple. “Alas, I place my affections in a creature of perpetual motion. At least for the moment, the world can stop for us.”

Vax closes his eyes, breath still slowly calming, heart still racing. He could listen to Gilmore talk up his affections all day, even if knowing he’ll eventually be the cause of distress makes him sad. He’s lucky that Gilmore thinks he’s worth it anyway. “You can be so poetic, for a merchant,” he says through a yawn.

Gilmore chuckles softly. “I have to be colorful, it makes me memorable.”

Vax drapes an arm over Gilmore’s chest. “Stay the night?”

There’s a pause. He knew this was a bit much to ask, he won’t be disappointed with a refusal. But then Gilmore shifts a bit and kisses him again. “Oh, I suppose I can be persuaded to sleep in your lavish keep.”

Vax cracks his eyes open. “Persuaded?”

“Please,” Gilmore says seriously, “do not take that as a request. I couldn’t take much more at the moment.”

Vax tilts his head to look at him shrewdly. “But later?”

He laughs loudly. “I suppose we have all night to see.”

Vax smiles widely, and they kiss. 

He knows this moment is brief, and tries to appreciate it as he can in the present. That they’ve had such time to develop their feelings is more luck than he’s ever had all at once, so much so that he’s afraid of becoming too comfortable lest he get whisked away by surprise. Because he  _ will _ be whisked away, and he will go willingly. Now, however, it will be a far more difficult thing to do.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sudden turn for the worse.

Vex is a groggy mess the morning after the party. She drank too much and ate too little and didn’t have nearly enough fun to justify it all. Everyone had gone home after the king’s speech, perhaps the earliest most of them have ever turned in, and she and Jarett simply parted ways to go to bed. Scanlan and Percy were the only ones to stay out last night, and Vex finds herself thinking they can’t have gotten up to anything particularly interesting. It’s one of those mornings that reminds her being an adventurer still comes with perfectly average moments.

With a simple robe thrown over her nightclothes and a hearty yawn, Vex exits her room to find some mid-morning breakfast.

And is just in time to see Gilmore opening her brother’s door, before catching sight of her and swiftly closing it again. She freezes, breath caught in her throat as she briefly questions her sanity. No, she definitely saw that, and it almost certainly means what she thinks it means.

A playfully wicked idea enters her head. She sidles up to the door and knocks twice. “Gilmore,” she says sweetly, voice just loud enough to be heard within and no more. “I know I saw my favorite person in there. If I can have a special discount, no one else needs to know.”

To her surprise, the door opens wide, and Gilmore is there using his long tunic from last night as a robe. “My dear Vex’ahlia,” he says with his trademark golden smile. “What on earth would I ever ask you to keep so secret? Surely your sponsorship discount is sufficient.”

Shit. She surprised him, but he’s too smart to not recover well. “Of course, Gil,” she says. “Just know, if you want some discretion….”

“I have nothing to hide,” he says. “Although I admit, encountering you under the current circumstances is less than ideal. Might I have a moment to dress?”

She waves a hand, all pretense at getting a discount lost. “Go, put some pants on.”

“Much appreciated.”

The door closes again, and she’s left standing in the hallway with her arms crossed. For a moment, she debates waiting or moving on, but eventually decides to wait, at least for a few minutes. If neither of them emerges in that time, she’ll take that to mean they’re not coming out and she absolutely doesn’t want to be in the vicinity to find out why. She hopes they come down for breakfast, though. Much as she likes to tease, really, she just likes being around Gilmore. He’s a charming man, and his thing with her brother is a lovely opportunity to be even better friends. She wonders if Vax feels that way about Jarett.

Probably not. If anything, he feels neutral. Vex would love it if her two favorite boys became best friends, but the reality is that Vax doesn’t do casual friends all that easily. Best case scenario, Jarett and Vax will be willing to die for one another, but won’t even think about doing anything for fun outside of the odd drink here and there. She won’t push it. They get along and that’s enough.

After a surprisingly short amount of time, Vax’s door opens once more to allow both he and Gilmore into the hall, fully dressed. “Will you be joining us?” Vax asks her dryly.

“Don’t mind if I do,” she says, hooking an arm through Gilmore’s. “Let’s try this again. Good morning, Gil, lovely to see you here.”

“Good morning, Vex. You have a lovely home,” he says.

“Why, thank you. It was a gift from our Lord Sovereign himself,” she says with an airy laugh. “You know, we’ve saved his life on a few occasions now.”

“Have you?” Gilmore says, sounding suitably impressed. “You must be the mightiest heroes of the realm.”

“Our influence certainly extends quite far. Why, we have contacts as distant as Vasselheim.”

“Such a reach is well suited for advertising, don’t you think?” he says. “Especially with the amount of people who must certainly admire your heroic deeds.”

“No shop could ask for better!”

“Couldn’t they?”

“Are you finished?” Vax asks, eyeing the two of them. “Or are we going to be playing pretendsies all morning?”

Vex sticks her tongue out at him. “You’re no fun.”

They enter the dining hall, and things are as they always are. The night guards are finishing their breakfast, most of Vox Machina save for Percy and Scanlan are present, and Laina is hustling out with the latest round of food. Vex holds her breath, but the only reaction from the group so far is mild surprise, followed by friendly greetings to Gilmore. Well, except Grog.

“What are you doing here so early?” he asks with a furrowed brow. “Do we owe you money?”

“No, my dear Grog,” Gilmore says as he takes a seat. “This visit is solely for pleasure.”

Grog is silent for a long moment as he stares, suspiciously and intently, between Gilmore and Vax. It is clear that he already had the pieces, but was not expecting to see them put together right in front of him. Miraculously, however, once he comes to his own conclusion on the matter, he merely grins and nods at Vax. “Nice.”

“Anyway,” says Vax. “How was the rest of the party? We left a bit early.”

“I had a nice time,” Pike says. “Scanlan kept asking for a dance, but I don’t really know how to dance, so I just sort of stayed with some priests who were there.”

“Percy didn’t offer you any lessons?” Vex asks.

She shrugs a bit bashfully. “It’s a little hard to learn dancing from someone who’s not a gnome, you know?”

“Dancing’s for squares anyway,” Grog says. 

“I quite like it,” Keyleth says. “With Percy, anyway. I don’t know what I would have done if he wasn’t there last night.” She stirs a bit of sugar into her tea, then puts her chin on her hand contemplatively. “I wonder if, after Whitestone has recovered, he and Cassandra will host any parties in their castle.”

“Have to get rid of that orb bullshit first,” Vax says. “No parties until we’re sure a black hole won’t open up under our feet.”

“I meant  _ after _ ,” she says.

“Tell me about this orb,” Gilmore says.

Vex thanks Laina as a plate of food is put in front of her. “Something we found underneath Whitestone when we took care of the Briarwoods,” she says. “It doesn’t seem like it’s doing anything  _ yet _ , but it sucks in anything that goes near it. Poor Keyleth almost lost a hand.”

“Normal means of destruction don’t work,” she says.

Vex shrugs. “We had Allura and Eskil Ryndarian go check it out, but I think the majority of the work will have to be academic. Magic doesn’t work in that temple.”

“No magic?” Gilmore chews a bit of sausage thoughtfully, but appears to have nothing more to add.

Vex had wondered if Gilmore might be interested in investigating the orb as well. He’s a brilliant enchanter, if their equipment is anything to go by, and she has a strong feeling that he’s capable of even more than they know. But he’s more of a businessman than a researcher, and with the opening of his second shop, he has very little reason to be more than curious about such a thing.

“Maybe we should check in soon,” Keyleth says. “I know no news is probably good news….”

“I still want to know what Allura has learned, if anything,” Vex says.

“I’d go back,” Grog says. “They love us over there, and I can lift some more heavy stuff and make them all impressed.”

“It wouldn’t take long,” Keyleth says, taking the idea and running as she is so want to do. “And with Percy’s stone — oh, there he is, Percy!” She half stands from the table, waving at the door.

Percy, looking weary and a touch bedraggled, pauses, then hesitantly steps into the hall. “Yes?”

“Can we check in with everyone in Whitestone?”

He looks nonplussed as he says, “I suppose? How?”

“We thought we might go back to visit soon,” Vex tells him. “Since we liberated them and then left a super dangerous object right under their homes and all.”

He moves closer to the table, frowning slightly. “I suppose we could, but there still won’t be much for us to do about it. If Allura had found anything of significance, we'd know by now.”

“You don't want to just check?” Keyleth says.

He looks down, taking a moment before answering. Vex gets the feeling that any other time, he'd be amenable, but now is not the time for this conversation. “I know it's a simple trip for us, but I'd like to go with a bit more purpose. Let me see if I can't drum up something to bring along to help them out, at least.”

“We have time, we can discuss it later,” Vex says.

He nods at her gratefully. “I should rest first, anyway. I'm not of much use as I am.” He gives a lazy wave as he turns and leaves, passing Scanlan on his way. The little bard is ambling along without much hurry or purpose, still humming some drinking song or another.

”And where were you?” Vex asks as he plunks himself down beside Vax.

“Having some  _ quality _ bro time with my dear friend Percy,” he says with a glassy grin, reaching for a plate of bacon. “We took the party to the streets.”

“Well, then I’m surprised you’re here and not in prison,” Vax says.

Scanlan sticks his tongue out at him, then pauses, tilts his head, and leans more forward so he can better look at Gilmore. “Well, hello. Come here often?”

Gilmore smiles tolerantly at him. “Good morning, Scanlan.”

“While I've got this completely unexpected and surprising opportunity to talk to you, I've been meaning say, that little experimental potion you gave me? Amazing. Works wonders.”

“Always good to hear from my customers,” he says, then pushes his plate away. “Speaking of which, I really ought to be getting back to the store. I’m sure my staff have had a lot on their hands with the recent festivities. Thank you all for the lovely breakfast.”

“Drop by any time, Gil,” Vex says.

Vax pushes his own plate away as he stands. “I’ll walk you out.” 

“How long should we avoid the entrance hall?” Scanlan calls after them, which goes ignored. “An hour? I’ll give it two, to be safe.”

Vex just rolls her eyes at him and returns to her coffee. Regardless of Percy’s moods or Scanlan’s teasing, this morning is a perfect example of why she likes being at the keep. Everyone is together, safe, enjoying the comfort that comes with having a stable home. Most of them may not have met under the best of circumstances, and they certainly didn’t start their journeys that way, but they’ve made the best of it. Some of them have even come close to something like happiness.

But even as she looks around at her friends and her surroundings, she feels the itch. Doing odd jobs will only keep her busy for so long. Another day lies ahead with no plan of action, and it makes her more anxious than going into battle. She doesn’t want to be bored or stagnant. She wants to travel, be on her feet, hunt the monsters of the world that seek to destroy the things she loves.

She can’t be the only one who feels this. Keyleth has yet to complete her Aramente, and Grog can’t possibly be expected to sit quietly in the city for too long. Percy, too, appears to be wearing a little thin where patience is concerned. 

Maybe Whitestone will have that for them. Maybe they’ll find their next adventure when they walk out of the Suntree.

Or, maybe, it will walk into the dining hall on the heels of their incredibly handsome guard captain.

“You have a visitor,” Jarett says, making eye contact with her as he leads Seeker Assum to their table.

“Morning, Assum,” Keyleth says.

He nods. “Morning to you all. I come with summons from his majesty for you to attend a speech he’s delivering this evening.”

Vex blinks, and can already tell she’s not the only one perplexed here. “Has something happened?”

He shakes his head. “Not necessarily.”

“He just gave a speech last night.”

Assum nods. “Yes. But Uriel preferred to make this a separate occasion from the festivities.”

That translated to bad news in Vex’s mind. If it were anything good, Uriel wouldn’t have had any trouble lumping it into his birthday speech last night. “What’s wrong? Is someone in trouble?”

Assum shakes his head again, appearing calm and unbothered. “No, nothing like that. It’s important that you all be there, though.”

Vex looks at her friends. Even Grog has an air of suspicion about him. None of them has any reason to believe that a surprise announcement will lead to anything good. If only to end the weird silence, she turns back to Assum and says, “We’ll be there.”

He gives a slight bow. “Thank you. I know Uriel will appreciate it.”

I interrupt the story here because you, dear reader, already know what happens next. 

The king’s speech renouncing his claim to sovereignty is cut short, as is his life. Chaos erupts in the heart of Emon, and Tal’dorei fractures in the span of a single day. Vox Machina retreats to their keep with any survivors, powerless to stop the destruction.

The story resumes with the first moment of safety, when the reinforced doors close to a courtyard of ice, and refugees fill the halls of Greyskull Keep. Vex stares around at it all, her brain slogging through her panic in an effort to think more clearly. People are wounded, she’s wounded, everyone is scared. Someone needs to be a calm voice of reason, but she doesn’t think she can be that right now.

“Vex!”

She turns at the sound of her name and sees Jarett coming towards her, a gash on his head spilling blood to his chin. “You’re hurt,” she says immediately, raising her hands to his face.

He takes her by the wrists and pushes them down. “I’m fine. See to the others first.”

“There are dragons-“

“I know.” He pulls her to himself, holding tightly for a moment. “For now, they are not here. We must take advantage of that.”

His firm hold calms her, at least enough to let his words sink in. The dragon is gone now, and the one that’s left is far away. If they want to have any hope of destroying it, they need to look to themselves now and shore up defenses.

“Look at me.” As he steps back, he puts a hand on her chin, waiting for eye contact. It actually takes her a moment to make herself focus on him. “I’m going to the battlements. I’m going to keep my men up there, and we’ll watch for more refugees and keep an eye out for danger.”

She nods. “Right. We’ll manage here.”

Swiftly, he places a kiss on her forehead, then heads off to join up with his men. Vex takes a deep breath, trying to steady with chaos in her mind. The way this blindsided her has her wondering if they’re somehow at fault, if they did something, or missed something, and this is all because of them. She’d sworn a vendetta against dragons after one took her mother, and now they’ve returned to take everything else away, too. 

And she’d swear further vengeance now if she didn’t feel so incredibly small and powerless.

“Vex!” Pike calls, motioning her towards the shrine. “Help me in here, I’ve got an idea.”

Vex obeys and Trinket follows, keeping closer to her now than he ever has. At least Pike has her head on straight. Someone needs to. 

Over the course of the day, they  _ do _ things, but Vex doesn’t feel the satisfaction of things being done. The worst injuries are tended, the keep’s defenses are bolstered by Pike’s divine helper, and no more dragons descend, but she still can’t help feeling adrift. They can take care of the smaller problems now, but what about after? What are they going to do with all these people? 

Even Vox Machina can’t get it together now. So much happened beneath the keep today, so much fighting and tension between the people who are supposed to be Tal’Dorei’s heroes. If Allura and her friend hadn’t shown up, Vex isn’t entirely certain that one or more of them wouldn’t have wound up dead. So what does that mean? If their bonds of teamwork are so thin, what hope do they have of eradicating this problem? That's generously assuming they even have a prayer without all the infighting.

She doesn’t see a way out. Not with the city in ruins just beyond their doorstep. But the horde of refugees inside the keep need more than despairing hosts, they deserve better. Not like Vex had ever really asked to be in charge of so many, but here they are.

Jarett doesn’t appear again until late in the evening. Vex should have gone to bed, as many others had done, but she also isn’t the only one still awake and moving. Sleep seems too vulnerable for the moment. He picks his way over to her in the entrance hall, where they’d set up as many beds as could be scrounged up, and he sits beside her on the floor.

“Everything is still quiet,” he says. “I’ve sent out the second shift. Not to be too optimistic, but I doubt we’ll see another attack tonight.”

“Doesn’t hurt to be cautious,” she says, stroking Trinket’s fur.

A quiet moment passes, then Jarett rests a hand on her knee. “I’m not good with reassurances. I don’t know what to say.”

The dread in her heart is momentarily replaced with affection and she puts her hand on top of his. “I don’t think there’s much that anyone can say. We’ve done what we can for right now, but the rest is….”

He squeezes lightly. “The rest is for tomorrow.”

She closes her eyes. “Right. Tomorrow. Which sounds different if I don’t expect to sleep tonight.”

“You should. I know it’s hard, and the other guards didn’t want to, either, but sleep now can mean victory later.”

She sighs. “I know. It’s just….”

He looks into her face, then turns his hand so he can lace his fingers with hers. “I’ll stay with you, if you’d like.”

She closes her eyes and leans into his shoulder. Not facing the night alone suddenly makes sleep seem a bit easier. “Yes.”

He kisses the top of her head. “As you wish.”

Eventually, Vex manages to pick herself up off the floor. Hand in hand with Jarett, she exits the hall and goes to her room. Tomorrow may come too soon, and it may bring a world far different from the one she knew, but that will still be for tomorrow. Tonight, time is nonexistent as she crawls into her bed with Jarett and steals the last bits of comfort she fears she’ll get for a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, I'm still updating! I do still plan to continue! Just slowly.
> 
> Okay, now that we're back on track with the canonical timeline, I just wanna real quick establish that canonical things will continue to happen, just maybe between scenes so that I'm not just rewriting the show, ya feel? Stuff like Scanlan's daughter and the like still happen. Clearly the focus of this fic is the twins' romances so that's what we're gonna look at. I will continue to diverge where I feel like it, though, because that's spicy.
> 
> Anyway, probably an unnecessary note, but here we are. Thanks for continuing to read and comment, it really does keep me going even if it appears that I'm not.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That One Scene from Episode 41

If there is a word for the way the world feels when Vox Machina steps free of the keep’s secret passage, Vax has to wonder if it’s any more poetic than “cold.”

The streets are bare. Pockets of destruction make once-familiar roads appear unrecognizable, swaths of scorch marks and ice painting a clear picture of where the dragons have been. Maybe Vox Machina hasn’t called this city home for very long, but Vax can’t remember another place that even came close after his mother’s death. Now it, too, lies in ruins. 

“I don’t even know who to start looking for,” Keyleth says. “I don’t know where the other council members would have been normally, much less now.”

“Maybe with the king?” Scanlan offers.

“I’d be surprised if that dragon hasn’t torn the castle apart by now,” Percy says. “I wouldn’t look there first, even if they made it that far.” He runs a hand through his hair, looking around the square. “You know… we’re in Abdar’s Promenade. Do we know if Gilmore -- do we know where he is?”

Vax can feel all eyes on him. He does not know. He’s been pushing the fear and anxiety down, because there was too much to focus on in Greyskull to allow a moment for panic, but that moment seems to be catching up with him now. Gilmore had been standing right next to him at the assembly, but as soon as the dragons descended, Vax had lost track of almost everything. He doesn’t know if Gilmore made it out of that chaos, but he has to believe that he did. To even think otherwise is to open up a door to horror he doesn’t want to feel.

“The shop, then,” Percy says diffinitively, even though no one has answered him. He puts a firm hand on Vax’s back to urge him forward. “Maybe he’ll have something helpful for us.”

Vax puts one foot forward, then another, again and again. One step, followed by the next. It’s difficult to think beyond that metric, to imagine what he’ll find at the end of the path. The idea that the other councilors or even the king may not have survived doesn’t even enter his head, because he doesn’t care. Is that selfish? Maybe. But he was never someone to give his heart to anyone of authority, no matter their merits, because the only people he’d ever love and trust were the people who’d bled for and beside him. And, now, a person who’s shown him that love doesn’t have to be earned through blood. He will secure the safety of those people first, and worry about governments and nations later.

Vex casts Pass Without a Trace, but the party already walks in silence. The city is too quiet for them to disturb, and drawing attention is unwise. The more bitter members of Vox Machina, Vax among them, know that dragons will not be the only monsters here, and that common people can be just as vicious if pressed. 

As if the Fates wanted to make sure they knew they were absolutely right about that, they present to Vax an image that somehow makes his blood simultaneously run cold, and absolutely boil.

Gilmore’s Glorious Goods, a gaudy testament to its owner’s flair and panache, stands almost concave. The colorful cloths that once draped over the roof now hang in disarray or completely torn to the ground. It was hit, just like all the buildings around it, and no amount of Gilmore’s clever magic could stop that from happening. 

But Vax can’t even get as far as wondering where the man himself is, because he is watching several figures pick about the rubble for valuables, and he has just a half second to think he might actually be capable of casting a fireball.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Vax snaps.

The heads of the thieves whip around to look, but they appear unfazed by Vox Machina’s presence. That will change. He will make that change. “What’s it look like?” says one. “Get your own loot, this one’s ours.”

“It is  _ not _ yours-” He starts to surge forward, but Vex pulls him back. Maybe she doesn’t want to be killing civilians already, but Vax really has no rules of morality left in his heart right now.

The man shrugs. “It’s ours now, mate. Gotta take something up to that beast, and no one here’s around to use it.”

The sound of Percy’s gun priming to fire is the loudest sound on the street. “You are going to walk away now,” he says evenly, “and leave whatever valuables you’ve collected there in a pile. Nothing from this store walks away with you.”

The man smirks and looks over at his fellows. “You’re not getting anything out of us. This is our third trip, y’see. Just collecting the scraps.”

As far as Vax is concerned, this is the only thing he has left of Gilmore right now. It’s his only lifeline, the only thing that might be able to tell him, in some way, where he might be. The idea that it has been stripped and dismantled, without any sort of protection spell or what have you triggering to blow these bandits apart, feels extremely empty. Like it’s just a building, vulnerable as all the rest, and nothing in particular was going to save it over anyone else.

And the thought that its larger-than-life owner could be just the same is what makes Vax angry enough -- and scared enough -- to throw the first dagger.

It’s the only cue the rest of the party needs. There’s hardly any hesitation now as Grog surges forward, Vex draws an arrow, and Percy fires a shot. Maybe they should be more hesitant and not shoot to kill, because these are civilians, but maybe it’s because they don’t pose any significant challenge that Vox Machina tears them apart as they do. There are dragons on the loose, the entire city is in ruins, and Vax, personally, can do absolutely fuck all about it. But there is a flesh and blood man standing between him and any perceivable sign of a person he cares about, so if that man wants to pretend he has some sort of power now that society has collapsed, he very much deserves to be met with death at the point of Vax’s dagger.

They chose this. They made the decision to further destroy the city for their own sakes. The consequences of that are theirs to suffer.

When it is down to the last man, Percy and Vex halt everything for an interrogation. Vax hasn’t the patience. He breaks from the group and bolts inside the ruined shop, searching for anything that might help. Scanlan and Keyleth both call to him, but they follow rather than wait for an answer.

There’s nothing. The walls and shelves have been picked bare, and even the fragments of merchandise are unidentifiable. Anything that could have been taken, was, including broken items. The entire second floor is gone, the magic of it disrupted by the building’s damage -- at least, Vax hopes that’s all that disrupted it. He knows all about spells that fail as soon as their caster is gone. With great trepidation, he moves through the shop to where the beaded curtain once hung in the back, now scattered all over the floor. 

He doesn’t know if it’s because the thieves didn’t see much merit in this room, or because they just hadn’t finished their scavenging, but Gilmore’s private quarters appear more ruffled from the destruction than picked over. The large cabinet with glass doors is still there, though the glass has shattered, and some of the vials inside still appear to be intact. The bedclothes and ornamental cloths are all torn, down from the pillows giving the room a snowy quality. The table and chairs, at which Vax sat and enjoyed several drinks, are upended. As if it will somehow help, he carefully rights them back to the way they were, then makes his way to the cabinet.

He doesn’t know why he expected anything else, but the contents are the same as they ever were, save for some shattered bottles of perfumed liquids. Struck by the thought that these will go next should anyone else come looking around here, he starts to pull whatever bottles and containers are still whole and puts what he can fit into a pouch on his belt. He’s sure that Gilmore will be glad to have these returned, they seemed special. Other than this, there is nothing. No magical artifacts, no clever release for a hidden room. No sign that Gilmore even came back here.

But no bodies. Either no one was in the shop when the dragons came, or they had a way to quickly escape to safety.

“Vax,” says Scanlan.

He turns around, and he sees the little gnome tugging at the ornate carpet on the floor. With a jolt, he realizes the outline of a trap door lies beneath. He seizes an edge of the carpet and pulls, yanking it out of Scanlan’s grasp and shoving it to the far side of the room.

Clever Gilmore. Much, much too smart to not have a contingency plan.

Keyleth, upon seeing the happenings from the doorway, calls out to the others, “We found something!”

Vax doesn’t wait. He grabs the iron ring laid into the floor and pulls, almost surprised when it easily comes free.  _ If nothing else, let it be this _ , he thinks.

He is immediately met with a knife in his face and an unfamiliar woman staring wildly at him. “Whoever you are, stay back or I swear I’ll kill you!” she snaps.

He does back away, too surprised to meet fire with fire for the moment. “Sherri?” says Scanlan, even though Vax is reasonably certain this is not Sherri, though he’s starting to feel a sense of recognition.

The rest of Vox Machina join them now, and Vex is the first to step to the trap door and ask, gently, “Did you work here?”

The woman doesn’t answer. Wisely, in Vax’s opinion. Looters would, of course, want an employee to tell them every secret of the place. “We’re looking for Gilmore,” he says. “If he’s not down there, tell me now so we can move the fuck on.”

The woman stares at him for a moment, then hesitantly turns to look over her shoulder. “Sh-Sherri?” she says.

After a moment, a much more familiar face looks up at them from the dimness of the cellar. Her hair is frazzled, burn marks are just visible up her arm, but her glasses are on straight and she isn’t half so panicked as the other woman. For the first time in Vax’s memory, Sherri looks up at Vox Machina with a mixture of awe and relief. “I can’t believe it.”

The first woman continues to look uncertain. “Are they-”

“Yes, let them down, come down. Quickly.”

Vax wastes no time. He drops into the shaft, ignoring the ladder. 

“E-Empress,” Percy stammers as the others make their way down. “Are you alright? Did Uriel make it out?”

Empress Salda, whom Vax realizes he was wildly mistaken in thinking was a shop clerk, moves back into the cellar. She reaches out, touching the hands of three small children huddled by the wall. “Um… no. No, I don’t believe my husband made it out. Even we barely escaped thanks to….” She looks to the far corner of the room.

Vax follows her gaze, and his body moves before his mind even really catches up to what he’s seeing. He drops to his knees beside the form lying on the ground, his hands coming in contact with a frightening pool of warm blood. “I -- Gil?” he chokes, touching… anything, anywhere, trying to see if he’s breathing. “Gil? Where are you -- wh-”

“ _ Pike! _ ” Grog rumbles.

“Pike!” Vax repeats, because it’s the first thing that makes sense in his head. “Keyleth! I need-”

“I’m here, I’m here,” Keyleth says, rapidly joined by Pike as they kneel with him. 

He continues to murmur Gilmore’s name, but he receives no sign that he’s heard. The head cradled in his lap is coated with a cold sweat, and it doesn’t feel like there’s much life left in him to recover.

Yesterday. It was yesterday that they walked to the square together, hand in hand, talking about… what? Something unimportant, at the time. Westruun, Vax thinks, that was what they talked about. Gilmore needing to take another long trip, and that he might as well wait for the next time Vox Machina set out. They didn’t talk about how it might be a long time before they’d meet again. They didn’t talk about how dangerous Vax’s line of work was, because they’d discussed that before. Because the risk of one of them getting hurt or dying had only ever been for Vax.

“Who has bandages?” Keyleth calls.

“I do.” Vex drops down with the little group, pulling rolls of gauze from her bag. She looks at Vax, and she waits for eye contact before she says, “He’s going to be fine. We’ll make him fine.”

He just nods. He’ll trust them, because they’ve done it for him before, they can do it for Gilmore now.

As Keyleth and Vex try to stop the bleeding, Pike gently puts a hand on Vax’s arm. She is astoundingly calm in comparison to everyone else. “I’ve got something,” she says. He nods at her. 

She grips her symbol of Serenrae and it begins to glow as he’s seen dozens of times when she heals people. But it continues, pushing outward, through her body and down to Gilmore’s. He almost wishes it wouldn’t, because now he sees the gash as clear as day and he  _ knows _ the claw of a dragon put it there. It’s gaping and horrific, but even as he looks at it, the wound begins to close. Gilmore’s body grows warm beneath his hands, almost humming with the energy Pike is pouring into him. He doesn’t let go, but Keyleth and Vex do, moving back to let her work. 

Moments pass in silence as the radiant energy makes Gilmore whole. Vax tries not to think too much about how there’s still no movement, no sign that Gilmore is receiving this well. He tries not to think about how sometimes, magic comes too late.

When the light dies, there is further silence. Salda’s children inch closer, scared, curious, hopeful. Vax can strongly relate, as he continues to smooth Gilmore’s hair away from his sweaty face, murmur something comforting, and wait. There is a heartbeat. There is a pulse, there is life, and it will  _ persist _ , dammit, even if Vax has to storm the gates of Death himself to make it happen.

And then Gilmore coughs. He inhales, struggling with the strength of it, coughs again, and starts to claw his way back to consciousness. Vax restrains himself from smothering him right then, and just tries to help shift him so he’s more comfortable. “Hey, hey.” He watches Gilmore blink, then smiles a bit. “Hey.”

“Ah,” Gilmore says hoarsely, valiantly attempting to smirk like he didn’t just almost die. “I always knew yours would be the face I’d see at the end.”

Vax blinks hard to keep back tears, continuing to stroke his hair. “Bad day?”

“I think I’ve had worse.” He shifts, as though he’s going to sit up, and this is immediately halted by everyone else trying to keep him down. 

“Easy, just take it easy for now,” Keyleth says. 

Vex puts a hand on his arm. “No offense, darling, but you look like shit.”

Gilmore actually laughs at that. It sounds painful, but genuine nonetheless. “Well, we can’t have that, can we?”

Vax immediately takes his hand before he can try to cast a spell, then brings it to his lips for a firm kiss. “None of that, now,” he says, his voice coming out a little too hoarse. “You can be beautiful any day. Just rest.”

Gilmore goes a little more limp in his lap, finally succumbing to their commands. Vax hears shuffling behind him and turns to see Sherri awkwardly leaning in for a better look. “Is he alright? Will he be okay?”

Vax exhales. “I think so.”

“As long as we get him somewhere he can recover safely,” Pike says. “What are you all doing down here?”

Salda shakes her head. “Hiding. We have nowhere else to go.”

“I tried to find you,” Gilmore says, turning his hand to hold Vax’s. “In the confusion, I couldn’t see…. But I saw Uriel first. He pushed me away, tried to get others out, so I looked to his family. We made it out, but… dragons don’t appreciate challenges, as you may have noticed, be they from kings or merchants.”

Vax swallows hard. If he’d stopped to find Gilmore immediately, maybe this wouldn’t have happened. But maybe Salda and the children wouldn’t have survived, either, and as apathetic as he’d like to be about anyone outside his family, he knows they would be worse off if no one in the Tal’dorei line remained. And Gilmore did that. He put himself in harm’s way for the sake of people he didn’t even personally know. 

“Do you remember that talk we had? About being more careful?” he asks, and wipes furiously at a few tears before they can fall.

Gilmore laughs, which turns into a painful cough. “I don’t have a defense for that.”

“How long have you all been down here?” Percy asks, looking around.

“Overnight,” Salda replies. “We didn’t dare come out, we’ve heard people taking things from upstairs all day.”

“Yeah. We handled them,” Grog says, his tone implying that they needn’t ask about that further.

“There’s no reason for you to be here any longer,” Percy says. “We have more refugees at the keep. You should all come back with us, there’s plenty of room.”

“It’s still in tact?” Salda asks, almost disbelieving.

“And fully staffed,” he says. “It’s safe, as much as anything can be safe for the moment.”

“What about getting there?” Sherri asks. “It’s a ways outside the city, and with the dragon still here and Gilmore in the state that he is….”

“There’s a secret passage that opens not far from here,” Vex says.

“And you’ve got the best bodyguards in the country,” Scanlan adds, leaning against Grog. “Absolutely nothing is going to touch you.”

For the first time, Salda seems to actually relax as she gathers her children close. “We’d welcome the help.”

Vax’s heart goes out to her. He’d thought he had a bad day, and he hadn’t even lost anyone. He couldn’t imagine losing a husband, then being trapped down in a dark cellar with only a shop clerk and having to watch as a man slowly bled out over the course of the night. They’d had no way of calling for help, no way to leave or risk being seen and dragged right back to the dragon that started it all. He never likes to be too egotistical about Vox Machina’s talents, but it strikes him now how absolutely miraculous their arrival must have seemed. 

“Do you think you can walk?” he asks of Gilmore.

He takes a breath. “I can, I just… need a moment.”

“Here, let me-“

“I can-“

Vex and Keyleth pause, looking at one another, then Vex says. “We can help him out a bit.”

“No, save your spells, you might need them,” Gilmore says with a weak wave of his hand.

“Sorry, Gil,” Vex says, “but you’re in no position to haggle today. Keyleth?”

Together, they heal him a bit more, until the color has returned to his face and he’s able to sit up. Vax helps to steady him, then unslings his water skin to give Gilmore a drink. 

“Thank you,” Gilmore murmurs, holding onto Vax’s hand. “I honestly wasn’t sure if-“

“Shh. It’s fine,” Vax says. “We’ll get you home and we’ll take care of you, I promise.”

—

Despite the long and trying day, Vax finds himself unable to sleep in the middle of the night. Gilmore slumbers on beside him in bed, and Vax is loath to disturb that rest with his insomnia, so he quietly takes himself out of the room.

He came too close to an unforeseen disaster today. Of course, dragons destroying the city had also been an unforeseen disaster, but that only lends itself to the idea that he can only take so much. Gilmore dying horribly had never been an issue because, to the best of Vax’s knowledge, Gilmore doesn’t take those sorts of risks. Yet, there he went, playing the hero.

Still, it’s hard to begrudge him such a thing. Despite the fear and anguish it had caused, Vax can still admit that he’s proud. Proud of Gilmore for being so uncharacteristically selfless, and proud that such a person believes Vax is worth caring about. If this is how Gilmore feels all the time, he can understand why a hero is so hard to love.

Although, to be fair, a number of Vax’s close calls haven’t been for particularly heroic acts at all. That probably doesn’t help things. He swears he intends to do less of that.

He wanders into the dining hall filled with refugees, most of whom are asleep. It looks like one person is awake, sitting up near the fire, but Vax pauses as he moves towards them. It’s Percy, occasionally poking at the logs, his jacket folded up and pillowing the head of some nearby child.

Vax decides, in this moment, that he’d rather not let things continue being complicated. He ought to learn his lesson by now that he can’t just start appreciating things the moment he’s about to lose them. It’s clear that his deciding such things doesn’t always mean that nothing will be complicated anymore, or that a fresh start is readily at hand, but maybe it will grant him more patience. 

It had been Percy’s suggestion, after all, to find Gilmore. He’s not trying to sabotage anyone.

So Vax approaches the fire as originally intended, choosing not to sit as he looks into the flames. Percy senses his approach and glances up, starting with surprise. “Can’t sleep either?” he asks.

“Long day,” Vax replies.

Percy takes a breath, nodding almost rhythmically as he watches the flames. “Yes. An extremely long day. We were due, I suppose.” He looks up. “How is Gilmore?”

“He’s sleeping. No fever anymore or anything, thanks to the girls. We were lucky.”

“Extremely lucky.” He rolls up the sleeves of his linen shirt, exposing forearms marked by burns and scars. “We need to leave. Everyone. Allura and Drake are doing their part, we can’t just sit here doing nothing. The longer we wait, the greater the chance that Gilmore and Salda and the all others will be in more danger.”

“What do you suggest?” Vax asks, resting a foot on the mantle. “There’s at least fifty people we’ll have to move. And I’m not sure some of them even can.”

“We can if we use the tree,” Percy says.

Vax looks down at him. “You want to take everyone to Whitestone.”

“It seems like the only safe bet. I  _ am _ of some authority there, so I can allow them asylum. I’m sure Cassandra would agree, considering the depletion to our population in recent years. There’s room, there’s work, and according to Allura, it’s remained untouched.”

Vax huffs, moving back from the fireplace as he looks around. With a dragon in the middle of the city, there’s every chance that they could experience another attack at any moment. He knows this, it’s the only reasonable thing to believe, but it pains him to think of uprooting from Greyskull completely. For such a short while, they had all the comfort and security they could desire. It had been a thing built to last, something that might even live on long after the last member of Vox Machina had passed.

He should have known better, considering their lives. He should have remembered that a house, however big and strong, is only ever a house, a shell to contain things, and those contents can move about like the winds. 

“What then?” he asks quietly.

Percy shrugs. “We need to talk with the others. But I say we figure out what cities have yet to be hit and go there. Now is the time to consolidate what forces we can, wherever we might find them.”

Vax shakes his head, disliking Percy’s tone. They’d attempted a consolidation of forces earlier today, and Vax had gone with Keyleth’s instincts and refused an alliance with the Clasp. He trusts Keyleth’s morality far more than his own, and he’d already had enough unsavory dealings with the group to be easily dissuaded. Percy has yet to stop being a little bitter about it.

It makes him wonder what use they really are, if the answer to this problem lies more in diplomatic negotiations than in pitched battle. The most diplomatic of their number is a compulsive liar, so Vax doesn’t think that’ll go over so well. He’s not an expert on these things, he’d rather just be pointed towards the world’s most powerful weapon so they can go fetch it and be off.

But if there were such a thing, Allura and her companions would surely have uncovered something about it long ago, rather than trapping Thordak whole on a different plane. 

Regardless, Percy’s original point remains. None of what needs to be done can be accomplished while they sit here waiting for something to happen. The refugees need to be moved, and they need to make a plan. 

“We’ll talk about it tomorrow,” he says. “I’m going back to bed.”

“Vax.”

He pauses, unsure if he wants to hear whatever’s coming next.

Percy looks at him, gearing up to say something, then appears to change his mind. “Sleep well.” 

Vax takes the opening for what it is and leaves. 

The halls seem somehow quieter now, or maybe it’s just his mind. His thoughts aren’t all awhirl anymore, because now he’s actually tired. Exhausted, really. His heart and brain can’t take much more of what’s coming at them, although he knows they probably can, and that they certainly will. This disaster isn’t even halfway done considering the amount of information they still don’t have, which means the morning is going to bring another universe of new challenges.

At least for now he has Gilmore. He goes into his room, the tension in his chest and shoulders loosening as he looks at the sleeping form on his bed. They’ve barely slept together more than twice, and yet it feels so correct to have him there. Vax slips back under the covers and lays a hand against Gilmore’s chest, feeling the slow rise and fall.

Just as he’s getting comfortable, Gilmore stirs, giving a slight cough as his eyes blink open. 

“Sorry,” Vax whispers. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I woke a bit ago,” Gilmore says, moving his hand to place atop Vax’s. “Didn’t see you.”

“Went for a walk,” he murmurs. “Are you alright? Any pain?”

“I’m fine.” He squeezes Vax’s hand, smiling slightly. “Though you’re a little far for my liking.”

With a small shake of his head, Vax scoots closer until he’s pressed against Gilmore, warming quickly after his time walking the drafty halls. 

Gilmore presses a kiss to his temple, then, in the quietest whisper, says, “May I ask that you don’t slip away anymore?”

Something almost painful stings Vax’s heart, making his hold on Gilmore a little tighter. “Of course, Gil. I’m sorry, I didn’t think you’d wake up.”

Gilmore takes a breath, and Vax can see the struggle on his face. “I’m loath to speak of my vulnerabilities,” he says. Vax is utterly shocked to hear a slight tremble in his voice. “But understand that it is dark in here, with no windows, and I spent what felt like an awfully long time down in that chamber.”

Damn. He was so stupid, slipping away like he did, knowing full well what Gilmore had just been through. Vax places a firm kiss to his forehead and gently strokes his hair. “I am not leaving you,” he says. 

“I know that you will,” Gilmore says. “And hopefully by then, I can manage it, but tonight….”

“Tonight, I’m here, and you’re safe.” Vax kisses him again. “Shall I turn on a light? Wait, actually…. Stay right where you are, I have something for you.” He slides out of bed and lights a lamp, then moves to his pile of gear in the corner to retrieve his belt pouch “Here. We couldn’t salvage much from the shop, but I did get these.” He climbs back into bed and withdraws five small vials from the bag.

Gilmore carefully moves to sit up, looking at them curiously, then recognition dawns on his face. He takes one of the vials and unstoppers it, smelling the contents. His eyes close and the first real smile Vax has seen all day spreads over his face. “How do I deserve you?” he asks. He says it differently, in a voice that lacks his usual projection and poetry. Vax hadn’t realized that Gilmore is a performer even in private until now, with everything stripped away but raw weariness and relief. In this moment, he is incredibly human.

Vax isn’t sure how to answer him for a long moment. It boggles him to think that someone might  _ deserve _ him in any way that isn’t a threat. He’s mostly been a hazard for people. But he doesn’t wonder  _ why _ , because with Gilmore looking at him that way, it’s so easy to understand why. Because Vax still came for him when he had every reason to believe no one would, and managed to bring back the only thing left of his destroyed livelihood in the process. 

“It might be silly to put such importance on unnecessary things like this,” Gilmore says, neatly aligning the little bottles on the blanket. “And truly, I would not have openly begrudged their absence. I know I’m lucky just to have my life. But some of these are from home, and at a time where most all of my other belongings are stolen or destroyed… these are priceless to me. I can’t believe you had the forethought to save them.”

Vax doesn’t think it’s silly at all. He knows what it’s like to treasure what few nice belongings he has. With the world upended as it is, no one can be faulted for wanting something familiar. “I knew you’d want them,” he says simply. “And I couldn’t stand the thought that someone else might take them.”

Gilmore smiles, shaking his head. “From wining and dining to this. We’ve had so little time to be simple.”

“Well, we’re not simple men.” Vax shifts until he’s lying alongside Gilmore, then laces their fingers together. “It’s alright. I’m not one for wining and dining. I’ll save your life any day.”

Gilmore turns to kiss him softly, slowly. “One day.”

Vax’s core grows warm at those words.  _ One day _ . Gilmore looks forward to more, despite everything, and that thought is wonderful. Potentially wonderful enough to make Vax stop all this, when the time is right. 

“Tonight, though, we should sleep,” he says, getting under the covers.

“I suppose,” Gilmore sighs, moving the glass vials to the nightstand. “The morning will not be pleasant, but you’re here, so how can I complain?”

Vax somehow manages to roll his eyes through a yawn. “I’m sure you’ll find a way.” 

The sound of Gilmore’s chuckle is the last thing he hears before the two of them quickly fall into a warm, comfortable sleep. 


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vox Machina makes a return to Whitestone, and the world ending puts a lot of stress on new relationships.

The move to Whitestone went over a lot better than Vex had expected. She’d been ready for resistance from refugees who didn’t want to leave, but in the end, she was the only one still trying to stay.

Thank the gods for Vax. She can lose the keep, she can keep losing homes, but he will always be the point that keeps her moving forward.

At least Whitestone isn’t unfamiliar territory. Cassandra is there to meet them at the Suntree, and other members of the Council of Whitestone are there to welcome the incoming refugees. It hasn’t been very long since Vox Machina was last here, but she can already see improvements. Windows that were previously boarded have been cleaned up, more buildings appear to be inhabited, and overgrown flower beds have been deprived of their dead vegetation and properly winterized. It almost looks like a proper town.

“Percy,” Cassandra says, opening her arms. 

He steps forward and takes her hands. “This is the last of them. How have the others fared?”

“We found space for them yesterday,” she says. “We should have no trouble with a few more.”

“Good. Hopefully this’ll give us some time to breathe.”

Vex sighs a bit with relief. “Thank you for your help, Lady Cassandra,” she says with a respectful nod. “Do you need us for anything while we’re here?”

“I’d dare say you have enough on your hands. But, if you’re offering….” She turns to Keeper Yennin. “Do you have this handled?” At his confident nod, she turns away and motions for Vox Machina to follow. “We can speak more in private.”

Word that Vox Machina was returning undoubtedly spread through the town yesterday. People are out on the streets to watch the unofficial procession, a few familiar faces waving energetically as they pass by. The feeling of being a hero here is different from anywhere else. In Emon their deeds had certainly been effective and noticeable, but that was a city full of people who were content to carry on with their day as long as the world wasn’t ending. Fame there felt like a passing thing. Here, their group had not only deracinated the evil infecting the land, but had made damn sure to make it livable again afterward. From Grog’s assistance with construction and Keyleth’s blessing of the fields, to Percy establishing a more public system of government, Whitestone couldn’t have asked for more thorough help.

Their appreciation shows. Sometimes it’s weird, because most of them know more about fighting bad guys than civic duties, but Vex tries to remind herself that they did some real good here. Whatever the fate of Emon or the other failures they may have had, the love for them in Whitestone is deserved.

It is still important to her, though, that if they wish to keep enjoying that love, then they need to continue earning it. When Cassandra brings them into the halls of the castle, it isn’t just the urge to keep busy that has her ready for whatever the Lady of Whitestone has in mind.

“Everything alright around here?” Percy asks.

“It’s fine, as much as things can be,” Cassandra says. “But when you came here with news of Emon, it did get me thinking. We need to have something in place to warn us ahead of time of incoming danger, though at the moment, we haven’t the ability to set up and man watchtowers so far out of the city.”

“I imagine early warning for dragons might be useful,” Vex says.

Cassandra gives her a wry look. “Indeed. In lieu of watchtowers, I spoke with your Realmseer Ryndarien and he presented me with a solution. A few enchanted devices, placed strategically at our borders, will alert us to incoming forces of a certain magnitude. Anything smaller can be dealt with at the gates we do have in place. If you have the time, I’d like for you to place them.”

“They’re just little alarms, then?” Grog asks. “Won’t go shooting the dragons out of the sky?”

“I’m told they’ll only have the alarm function,” she says. “It’s the best we can manage on short notice. I can have something prepared for the future, but at the moment, it’s the difference between having them ready within the week, and having them ready within a month or more.”

“I can assist with defensive countermeasures once we’ve at least got our alarm in place,” Percy says. “I’m sure something can be worked out.”

“When will these devices be ready?” Vex asks.

“Within the next two days. If that’s too long for you to remain here, I understand.”

“Not a problem,” Vax says immediately.

Keyleth makes an uncertain noise, and Vex can tell Scanlan is of a similar mind. “There are people we need to find,” she says quietly, more to Vax and Percy than to Cassandra.

“And there are people here who need protection,” Vax says.

“It’s not like we don’t have things we can be doing,” Vex says, laying a hand on Keyleth’s arm. “We can start scrying around for our next lead, that’ll take some time, yeah? If Whitestone is going to be our safe zone for a while, we’d better make sure it’s actually safe.”

Cassandra gives them all a respectful nod. “Then I’ll have you summoned when the Realmseer has finished his work. In the meantime, feel free to claim a few rooms here in the castle. We have staff now, they’ll help you get settled.”

“You have our thanks.” Percy gives her a nod in return, then shifts his attention back to Vox Machina as she leaves. “I don’t know about you all, but a few days to get ourselves together sounds good to me.”

“Oh, is that  _ all _ we’re doing?” Scanlan says with a pointed look at Vax.

Vex resists the urge to smack him. If Kaylie were around, he’d be dragging his feet on this, too, but she can understand his desire to get back out there and find her.

“Vax isn’t the only one with things to do,” Percy says.

“No offense, Percy, but I don’t need you jumping to my defense,” Vax says. He turns to Scanlan. “Yeah, I have my reasons for sticking around a bit. But Vex is right, and if we want to keep trekking our shit into Whitestone, we’d better make damn sure it’s safe. If you want to go running off into Dragonland to hunt down a few people who can quite honestly manage, be my guest.”

“Ugh, fine,” Scanlan says, tilting his head back. “But you know if I  _ did _ , I’d singlehandedly bring down all those dragons. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, go full giant lizard on those giant lizards, it’ll be a party.”

“Oh, there’s an idea, turn yourself into a dragon,” Vex says. “Solve this problem for us so we don’t have to muck about for months on end doing it ourselves.”

He makes a face. “Unfortunately, a dragon is a bit outside my challenge rating.”

“Shame.” Vex takes a few steps back from the group. “Well, I’m done standing around in the hallway. If you need me, I’ll be… out.”

“And where are you going?” Vax calls after her.

“You’re not the only one with people to see before we vanish indefinitely.” She exits the castle before they demand any more excuses and heads back to the square in search of her loyal guard.

It takes some time to find him, as he arrived here with the first group yesterday. After asking around a bit, and none of the refugees particularly knowing his whereabouts, she happens to spot him through a stroke of luck. He’s with Cordell and Shayne, and the three of them are heading towards the local tavern.

“Hello, darling,” Vex calls, causing the group to stop and look her way.

Relief eases the set to Jarett’s shoulders for a brief moment. “Vex’ahlia,” he says, extending a hand to touch her arm as soon as she’s near enough. Something in his face tells her he wants more, would rather be closer, but for manners’ sake he holds back. “I heard the rest of you had come through.”

“Nothing special to report, everything went smoothly,” she says, then looks to the other two guards. “Sorry that we don’t exactly have a keep for you to guard anymore.”

Cordell shrugs his massive shoulders. “You’ve paid us through the next month. Long as you don’t throw us at any dragons, we’re still in your employ.”

“Oh, Cordell, you sweetie,” she says.

Jarett takes a moment to scratch Trinket behind the ears, then slowly turns back to Vex. “I assume acting as personal guards will be out of the question.”

Vex had come here specifically to not think about this, but she has to admit that this is why she likes Jarett. He knows his place, and he knows that communication is key for him to do his job. And to somehow keep up a relationship with someone as here-and-there as Vex.

“We have a few days,” she says. “After that, we’ll need to go. So, if you’re against being thrown at dragons, no. There will be no personal guard duty.”

He gives a short nod, professional and understated, but she already knows what he’s thinking. She can see the disappointment.

They didn’t have time. They played a bit, and explored some, but they didn’t try to form firmer foundations. Vex hadn’t wanted to, and Jarett hadn’t been seeking it. Now there’s this, the threat of annihilation and impending separation, and she doesn’t know how they’re supposed to act. She would, of course, much rather be with Jarett than hunting down dragons, but that’s not exactly a tough competition. And very likely, he’d prefer she be somewhere he knows she’s safe, but he has no right to ask that and has to let it happen. They aren’t really responsible for each other.

It was supposed to be casual. But what is casual when the world falls apart?

“Join us for a drink, milady?” Shayne asks. “Been an awful long couple of days.”

Vex takes a second to be grateful the other two guards are here. They’re good company, and it saves her from trying to figure out what being alone with Jarett is supposed to be like now. “Sure,” she says. “I’ll get the first round.”

Shayne and Cordell enter the tavern first, and when their backs are turned, Jarett squeezes Vex’s hand for just a second, then lets go. He doesn’t know, either. Neither of them knows what’s going to happen moving forward, and that’s just how it’s going to be for a while.

\----

Vax doesn’t care the smallest fraction of a bit that anyone in Vox Machina thinks they should be moving on already.

They’ve lost their home, they’ve lost their city, dragons await them outside of Whitestone, and Vax came dangerously, horrifically close to losing one of the last good things in his life. He has so few, enough to count on one hand. So no, he does not care that there are people missing or that destruction is spreading. He cares that right now, he has maybe two days left on the clock before he has to leave one of the things he loves behind. Again.

So of course it bothers him that the thing he loves is not focusing all of its efforts on self-preservation.

Gilmore is not in the Whitestone clinic when Vax goes looking, and he discovers that it’s because Gilmore is hanging about in Jordana’s magic shop, The Alcove. He’s seated near the counter, making general observations about the store while Jordana furiously scribbles notes in a ledger, acting as if he hadn’t just about died two days ago.

“Vax,” Gilmore says, widely gesturing his greeting as Vax steps in. “Wonderful of you to come by.”

“You should be resting,” Vax says.

He makes another gesture to his chair. “I am.”

“And telling this poor girl how to run her shop is resting?”

Jordana looks up, clearly unwilling to interrupt an argument, but she does add, “I do need the help.”

“The Alcove is but a shell of what it could potentially be,” Gilmore says. “In its current state, it’s hardly of any use. Looters and vagabonds and poor governing have reduced it to a stationary shop. Poor Jordana here inherited the job without any preparation. As I have a wealth of contacts and experience, I designated myself the task of magical emporium rehabilitation.” He tilts his head. “Was that not what you’d intended for me after your last trip here?”

Vax feels like he’s being lawyered at, like talking to Scanlan. He can’t argue that The Alcove desperately needs someone with Gilmore’s skill, and that magic users tend to be very good for a town’s economy, but that doesn’t erase the fact that Gilmore is still doing all of this with a half-healed gash down his middle. 

However, he knows when not to be a hypocrite. He doesn’t like to lay about in recovery, either, and he can appreciate that now, of all times, such a thing is a horrible way to pass the time. Gilmore lost far more than Vax did in the fire, and he can’t be surprised that his chosen coping mechanism is resuscitating a failing magic shop.

“In that case,” he says, “is it time for a lunch break?”

Gilmore is clearly relieved by the response. No arguments, no unwanted advice. Just an opportunity for a break. “We’ve been at it long enough, I think,” he says, glancing at Jordana.

She nods. “Oh, yes, sir. I have quite a lot of notes that I should go organize, and some letters I need to write.”

“Don’t worry about too many of those letters,” he says. “I’ll write a number of them myself, you’ll be much more likely to get the quality goods you’re looking for.”

“Thank you, Mr. Gilmore. It was never really my dream to run this place, but my father, he-” She pauses, hardens her jaw a bit, and says, “He would have really appreciated this.”

Vax has never seen Gilmore struggle so much with such a small smile. “Happy to do it, my dear,” he says, then busies himself getting to his feet.

Vax resists the urge to help him for a moment, knowing part of the action is being used to mask a whole lot of emotions, but the tight grimace of pain is too much to ignore. He steps forward to slip an arm around Gilmore’s back. “There you go, darling. Easy does it.”

“I know I’m going to be fine,” Gilmore says a bit breathlessly. “It’s just that getting there takes an insufferably long time.”

“The good news is, you have that time.”

They step out into the wan winter sunlight, where Gilmore gains his feet a little more easily. Vax knows, from prior experience, that really it’s just the up and down that’s hard, but horizontal motion is generally the first thing to get easier. Gilmore does not step fully free, however, and maintains a hold on Vax’s hand as they head towards the tavern. 

He wishes, so very badly, that he was living this moment somewhere else, in another time. It’s too strange to have once-pleasant walks be so far removed from what they recently were, to have such a dark cloud hanging over them during moments that Vax just wants to enjoy. They were not fully taken from him, for which he is blessed, but he doesn’t think that he should have to count his blessings from the ashes of a former life.

“A copper for your thoughts?” Gilmore says.

Vax looks away. He’s been caught brooding. “Nice weather we’re having,” he says.

“Yes,” Gilmore agrees. “And I’m feeling fit as a fiddle.”

The sarcasm under the words feels grating. “We don’t need to talk about what I’m thinking.”

“I suppose not. If you’d rather, we can come up with more pleasant stories to tell. While away some time lost in fantasy.”

Vax stops and turns to him. “What else am I to say?” he asks. “We’re in some real shit, Gil, there’s nothing I can talk about that will be anything new to you.”

Gilmore’s gaze is hard, though he maintains his overall casual demeanor. “I do everything in my power to turn bad situations around,” he says. “But even I have only so much capacity for it. I’m not foolish enough to think you’ve come here for anything but a goodbye, and with your departure, I will have very little left to spark that joy. Forgive me, Vax, but today, I’m tired.”

It’s strange, he thinks, to have such tension with the person he’s talking to and  _ not _ have the immediate urge to walk away and hope the problem leaves on its own. It’s strange to already believe the end of the conflict is in sight, and wanting to stay put to see it.

Gilmore is tired. So is Vax. They’re too tired to be nice and happy and flirtatious, so all that’s left is angry and hurt and despairing. The best that they can do is not be such things  _ at _ each other, but rather together. Gilmore is the peacemaker of the two, but Vax isn’t going to force all of the emotional labor onto him just because he hates any kind of emotional confrontation.

Hm. Is this what a sincere and serious relationship does to people?

He takes a breath. “We should eat,” he says. “And maybe we’ll talk more once we have.”

The rest of their walk is quiet, but the tension has largely faded by the time they reach the tavern. His sister is already in there, sitting with the Grayskull guards, but he just shakes his head at her when they wave him over. He has barely enough patience to spend time with the one man who makes him feel comfortable, there’s absolutely no way he’ll be inflicting his presence on a host of others. 

Before long, a barmaid brings out some roast mutton and potatoes, a Whitestone dish that Vax is now wholly familiar with because it was about all of the foodstuffs the villagers managed to keep around during the Reign of Terror. Fine by him, he likes simplicity and consistency.

“I apologize,” Gilmore starts.

“Don’t.”

He sits back and gives Vax a look. “You didn’t seek me out to have a petty spat.”

Vax doesn’t look up from his potatoes. “It doesn’t matter. I sought you out for you, I didn’t have any further expectation.”

Gilmore is quiet for so long that Vax does look up, and finds a look of deep surprise and affection on his face. “I suppose it’s just difficult to understand,” he says. “I intended to have our pleasant honeymoon phase last significantly longer. Arguments and snappishness are generally ill omens, no one wants to deal with that, but….”

Vax puts his fork down. For once, the fact that they come from different worlds puts himself in the more advantageous position. “Gil, you’re a master craftsman of the romantic date. But this is where I live.” He gestures around. “Death. Destruction. Frustration. This is more than usual, granted, but I’ve fought with basically everyone I’ve ever loved or called friend because  _ this _ happens. And it sucks, yeah, but I care for you and you’re hurt, so I don’t want to just leave you to deal with it.”

He doesn’t think he can handle the adoring look he’s receiving while he’s this grumpy. “Eat your potatoes,” he says.

“Vax.”

“Food will make things easier.”

“Vax.” Gilmore reaches out, putting a hand on Vax’s wrist.

He puts his fork down. “Please don’t say it,” he whispers, refusing to look up. “Please.”

The hand on his wrist lightens its touch somewhat, then retreats. “No,” Gilmore says. “Perhaps not yet.”

The silence returns. Vax doesn’t know what this flavor is in the air. It’s not comfortable, but it isn’t tension, either. He wishes they were alone, that they could just communicate through touch and solitude, and maybe they will. But that isn’t the here and now, and in this moment, Vax hasn’t made enough sense of what he himself is feeling to be able to properly get anything across.

He’s just tired. He doesn’t want any of this to be happening. And it’s hard to latch onto anything good right now.

“I have something for you,” Gilmore says. When Vax looks up, he reaches into a pocket of his robes and places a little box wrapped in parchment on the table. “I was trying to finish it before your next big adventure. I wasn’t sure what timescale I was working on, so it’s a bit rushed, but….”

Vax takes the small parcel, just a bit smaller than his hand, and opens it up. Within the plain wooden box is a round mirror about the size of Vax’s palm. He looks up to ask what it does, but sees Gilmore pulling out a second, identical mirror. 

“Show me Vax,” he murmurs.

Before Vax’s eyes, the surface of the mirror clouds over, then clears again to reveal a live image of Gilmore, from the perspective of the mirror in his hand. He stares at it for a long moment, then looks up at Gilmore. “What’s the range?”

“Range shouldn’t be a problem,” he says. “It works a bit like that stone that Percival carries. The mirrors will only communicate with each other, but they can do so from any distance. Or, should,” he adds. “It was a bit rushed.”

“So I can-” Vax is horrified to hear his own voice break, and does his best to forge on past it. “So I can talk to you. Any time, anywhere.”

“If you have the time.”

He takes a breath. This changes things. This changes a lot of things. He can much more easily step out into the world if he knows he has a direct line to making sure Gilmore is alright. Even just a moment of conversation at the darkest times could make the biggest difference. “You have no idea what this means,” he says.

“I think I do,” Gilmore laughs. “I made them, after all.”

“You do realize you’re giving me an open line to pester you.”

“I pray that you do.”

Vax’s jaw tightens. This is what had been stopping him. The separation, the promise that he’d inevitably be all the way across the world and they’d never see or speak to each other until he returned home. That was no way to be with someone, no way to show he cared. But he can do that now, he can check in, he can show Gilmore he’s alright, he can give updates, they can  _ be together _ even when they’re far apart. 

“Do you have some sort of carrying case?” he asks. “Because this is  _ going _ to break if I don’t have somewhere to put it.”

“Ah, well,” Gilmore scratches his chin. “Not yet. If there’s time before you go, I can have something ready.”

“Yes. Do that. Please. Yes. I’ll put it in its own fucking bag with all the stuffing in the world.”

Gilmore laughs again, and that ugly feeling that had permeated the air fades like a clearing fog. “I’ll cast an unbreaking charm over it before you leave.”

An unbreakable connection back to Gilmore. Yes, that’ll make all the difference in the world. With time, he may commission another set from him to use with Vex, and then he’ll never have to worry again. Well, he’ll worry less. 

The world may be ending, but good things are much nearer at hand than he previously thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhh I usually don't do this but, the next chapter will be better, I promise. It's been a long writing slump for me lately.  
> In the meantime, you can check out my twitter @phasing_phoenix where I talk a lot about writing. Come say hi!


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crankiness levels reach critical, so it's time for Vex to get involved in the drama.

Much to Vex’s chagrin, setting up the magical sensors around Whitestone’s borders is not the jaunty errand she’d hoped it would be. 

It starts, as ever, with Grog and Vax’s inability to leave each other alone.

“This is a lot of work for something that’s not even gonna help,” Grog says once they’ve gone beyond the city gates.

“It’s something,” says Vax.

“Oh yeah, if only Emon had someone to yell ‘Oi, dragons are here!’ Then we wouldn’t have had a problem, you’re right.”

“Well, Uriel might still be alive had that been the case, so yes.”

“Look, a delay of a few days really isn’t that much,” says Percy, turning to look at Grog. He holds up the sensor in his hand, one of ten they’re meant to place. It’s a long, stake-like object with a tempered glass ball at the end, and each member of Vox Machina carries at least one. “We’ll put these in the ground, and then it’s off to Vasselheim, yes? Not too much to ask.”

Vex watches as Grog rolls his eyes, barely hiding a sneer. She hasn’t trusted him since the dragons came -- since he nearly killed Vax and herself down in Percy’s workshop. Something’s gotten into him, something even more violent than usual, and she doesn’t know if this is just Goliath nature taking over, or something did get  _ into _ him while they were taking out vampires. It’s not impossible. A demon had somehow infected Percy once, nothing’s to say one hasn’t done it to Grog.

“It’s just a quick errand,” Keyleth says.

“We might even get to kill something,” Scanlan adds brightly.

Grog shakes his head, reserving a glowering eye for Vax. “It’s not the delay I’m worried about.”

Vax turns on his heel, stopping to face the Goliath. Vex tries to tug him back into formation, but he doesn’t budge. “And what are you worried about, eh, big guy?”

“That we wouldn’t have to be placing these bloody sticks everywhere if someone didn’t turn down help when we had it,” Grog snaps, waving the sensors in his hands.

“Maybe not. Maybe we’d be in a far worse place.”

“I don’t know, you didn’t let me ask.”

Percy steps between them, facing Grog as if expecting things to come to blows. “We’ve had this discussion, it was tabled. We’re not resuming it here,” he says firmly.

“No, if he wants to have a go, let him have a go,” Vax says, pushing Percy aside. 

“Vax, seriously,” Vex warns.

Grog just rolls his eyes again and steps away. “Not worth it, anyway. We’re already way the hell out here.”

“Then let’s continue with our job,” Percy says tightly. 

Keyleth takes a few cautious steps like she means to wedge herself between the conflict. “Come on, guys. Bigger problems.”

Percy puts a hand on Vax’s shoulder to move him along, only to be shoved roughly back. “Stop touching me,” he snaps quietly. “I don’t need your damn help.”

Percy steps back, but anger and hurt replace his resolute expression. “I’m sorry, I know better. Everyone ought to just ignore you, yes? Leave you to your own foolish devices?”

“You know, Perce, that might actually be preferable.”

“Sure, yes, next time you’re in a tight spot, I’ll just leave you to it.”

“Alright, everyone stop!” Vex barks, and she thinks having a growling bear at her side does a lot to lend her words weight. Once all eyes are on her, she says, “We’re splitting the party. It’ll get done faster if we place the sensors separately and you arseholes can’t snipe at each other every two minutes.”

“Are you sure?” Keyleth asks, but Vax calls, “I’m with Vex.”

“No,” she says. “Percy, you’re coming with me.”

“I’ll go with Grog!” Pike volunteers, probably because no one else is willing to be alone with the glowering behemoth. 

“Then that’s you three together,” Vex says, pointing at Keyleth, Vax, and Scanlan. It’s a safe bet. They’re the least likely to kill each other. “Percy and I will head northeast. Pike, you and Grog go back to the southwest. Keyleth, your group goes northwest, and we’ll all meet back at the southeast point before heading back. Can we handle that?”

She’s not so much met with resounding affirmation as a “Sure” and a “Yep” from Pike and Keyleth, and then the rest of the boys moodily stomp off in the correct directions. Percy even goes so far as to pull his crow-shaped mask over his face.

It’s the stress. She tells herself it’s the stress, and if they can just get one win for the team, things will even out again. No one was ever meant to have a responsibility like this on their shoulders, but if they don’t set aside whatever’s eating at them now, there’s no way they’ll survive what’s coming.

So Vex waits. She follows Percy’s angry footsteps into the forest outside Whitestone, and she waits to see if he might figure his shit out on his own.

He does not.

And this is exactly why she’d partnered with him instead of Vax. Her brother and Grog might have their weird rivalry, but he always got on fine with Percy until very recently. Clearly it’s not going to work itself out, so the time has come to stop ignoring the problem. “We’re not going to get anything done like this,” she says.

An entire young tree shakes as he shoves a branch out of his way.

“You all tried to kill each other back at the keep, and now you’re trying to kill each other out in the open. Do you think the dragons care about who’s got the bigger dick here?”

He continues to ignore her, forging onward through the underbrush with about as little care as she’s ever seen from him out in the wild. He never ignores her. 

“Percival,” she hisses.

He finally stops. They’ve reached a small clearing, hardly a place worth stopping, but he does. Vex stands at the edge of it. She will make him come to her.

“Take. The mask. Off.”

He waits a very long moment to follow through, but eventually he pulls the morbid thing from his face, still refusing to look at her. 

“There,” she says, her tension easing somewhat now that she knows he'll listen. “Will you tell me what your problem is?”

“It's not-” He sighs, gazing upward as if for strength. “It's not your business, and I mean that as respectfully as possible.”

“Yeah, I fucking get that,” she says. “And believe me, if this shit didn’t keep blowing up every ten seconds, I wouldn't care. But now I do care and I want the truth.” 

He looks at her just long enough to make his impatience known, then away again. “You are infuriating at times.”

“I'm infuriat _ ed. _ ”

He hisses out a breath. “Fine. I promised  _ specifically _ not to tell you about it, but fine. If I've seemed -- if I've been  _ off _ lately, it’s because I went and got my feelings hurt and I don’t particularly know how to handle that.”

Vex allows herself to let go of some of her anger. The shell has cracked, he’s cooperating, so now she’ll listen. “Who hurt you, Percy?”

He huffs, kicking at a rock with his boot. “Your brother, actually.”

Something clicks then. A whole lot of things that have happened recently make a whole lot more sense. “You… have feelings for him?” she says, her voice climbing a bit too high at the end.

“Oh, if only that were the long and short of it,” he says with a bitter, joyless smile. “I only wish I’d been wise enough to leave this crush buried beneath the strata of trauma inside me, but no one’s ever accused me of being wise.”

She narrows her eyes, her heartbeat suddenly accelerating. Part of her desperately wants to know just how much damage they did, and another part wants to turn around and leave Percy to work this out himself. The last thing she ever wants is to hear bad things about her brother secondhand, but she can’t pretend she doesn’t care about Percy’s feelings, too. “Did you… confess to him?” she asks.

He kicks the rock even harder so that it goes flying into the trees. “Oh, no, even that would have been smarter than what really happened.”

“What  _ did _ happen, Percy?”

“I s-“ He stops, as if something is physically keeping the words tucked away inside. He looks at her with a mixture of fear and shame, then shuts his eyes tightly. “We… slept together.”

The world tilts with a sudden bout of vertigo and Vex has to sit down immediately on the nearest log. Trinket nudges her, checking that she’s alright, but she barely registers. “You… oh god.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You and Vax… ohhhhh god.” She puts a hand to her face, closing her eyes. “Why? How? When- oh,  _ shit _ .” Realization strikes like lightning and she stares into the distance, remembering a day not so long ago when she’d mercilessly needled her brother for a random hookup. She whips her gaze to Percy. “Grog was  _ right _ ?”

He grimaces. “Believe me, I’m as appalled by that as you are.”

“So, what, you-“ She pauses, trying to wrangle some sense out of this information. “You do —  _ that _ , and then just part ways?”

Another sigh as Percy walks over to her log and sits down. “He goes off with Gilmore, being treated better than anyone else could ever treat him, and I’m here doing my damndest not to fuck it all up.” He runs a hand through his hair, tugging at the ends for a moment. “I thought it would be easier to just live and let live.”

She looks at him, a sudden wave of pity drowning out her shock and mild disgust. “Percy….”

“Don’t feel sorry for me, I don’t deserve that.”

She puts a hand on his shoulder. “You didn’t tell him your feelings, did you?”

“Of course not,” he says. “If how I’m acting now is a problem, that would have been a disaster. I  _ want _ him to stay with Gilmore, he’s clearly happy there and of course that happiness is important. It’s just that I also…. I  _ also _ would like to make him happy. But I know I can’t do that. So I’m left feeling weirdly dishonest for doing things I wouldn’t have thought twice about before, because I’m afraid that I might do something to ruin everything.” He purses his lips and shakes his head. “If he hadn’t come down to my fucking workshop….”

Vex is utterly at a loss here. She’s good at being a listening ear, but offering advice or assistance has never been her strength. These two have now formed a minefield of tension and it’s no wonder they’ve been working poorly together. Getting them to talk it out doesn’t even feel like the right solution, because she agrees with Percy that telling Vax about his feelings would do nothing but further complicate things. And with all this Chroma Conclave business, the last thing they need is more complications.

“Maybe,” she says slowly, “you should stop acting differently? Maybe he’s not thinking about it as much as you are. If you could go back to the way things were-“

“I wish I could,” he says. “I wish it desperately, but, Vex, I — I was made to face something I was ignoring  _ while _ still recovering from the demon inside me. What do I know of normal anymore? I — I am in love with your brother, with enough clarity to know I cannot love him well enough. If there is a way for me to not think about that every time I look at him, please, I’m all ears.”

She doesn’t have an answer. She has no idea how to ignore feelings she shouldn’t be having, because she’s always had the luxury of uncomplicated relationships. Vax might be a problem and a half sometimes, but he’s her brother and she’s willing to put up with it. There’s consistency there that other relationships lack. She can’t imagine what it’s like to stand outside of that consistency and be so afraid to act on love.

But this is Percy. Percy, unlike everyone else, has made damn certain to always leave room for love, for reasons she’s never been able to comprehend. He can be wild and terrifying in the right light, but he maintains tenderness for his friends at times when they themselves hold back. He finds ways to connect to people instead of ways to exploit them, if they're worth it. It always seemed like a calculated decision to Vex, a way that his strategizing mind can still make the personal connections he needs to function as a human. After having his life torn to shreds by vampires at such a young age, of course he has to put effort into not isolating himself entirely.

So what is it like for him to accidentally trip into something deeper than he ever planned for? To feel a kind of love that can only find satisfaction when reciprocated? He shows affection differently for each member of Vox Machina in ways that don’t necessarily require them to do the same for him. His love manifests as service in so many instances. This thing he feels for Vax, if it's anything similar to what Vex has experienced herself, is not a service. Not when Vax doesn’t want it.

“I don’t blame you,” she says after a long moment. “I don’t think you’re stupid, I just think you’re… unlucky.”

“Ah,” he says shakily. “Yes. Unlucky is one word.”

“But you’re not alone with it anymore,” she offers. “I know. You can talk to me, if you want. Not keep it all locked up inside like you do.”

“Small comforts,” he sighs.

“I don’t know how to help you with this, Percy.”

“I know.” He buries his face in his hands, his fingers sliding up under his glasses. “I know it’s me, I’m the problem.”

“You said he came to  _ your _ workshop.”

“Fuck, he  _ did _ , the bastard.”

She puts a hand on his back, rubbing slow circles. Trinket, deciding Percy must be the wounded party here, pushes his big nose against the gunslinger’s side. “He is a bastard,” Vex says. “A no good, infuriating dumbass who deserves every ounce of happiness but also can go trip on a root.”

Percy snorts. After a moment, he finally looks up and takes another breath. “Thank you. It feels… somewhat better to have a person talk back to me instead of just my own thoughts. Validation is always nice. I really hope he never finds out I told you, because he will murder me in my sleep at the first opportunity.”

Vex leans over and kisses his cheek. “You’re safe, I know how to keep a secret. It’s just between us, yeah?”

“God, let’s hope it stays that way.”

She gets to her feet, and Trinket tenses slightly, ready to move on. This little section of the woods has become heavy with tapped emotion, and she thinks the bear wants to be out of it as much as the people. “Let’s keep going. If we wait too long, we’ll have to come up with a way to explain ourselves.”

“Yes. The fewer excuses we need to make, the better.” He stands as well, then reaches out to squeeze Vex’s hand. He doesn’t offer any more gratitude, but she can see it in his eyes and in the easier set to his shoulders. She may not have cured the problem, but even sharing some of the weight he bears may help him get past all this. She can only hope, at least. 

“Now all we have to do is keep Grog from killing everyone,” she says mildly.

He makes a face. “You know, not for nothing, but I think he might be possessed,” he says unhelpfully.

“Oh, good, yeah. That’s what we need. A possessed Goliath.”

Fortunately for the pair, that talk remains the hardest part of the journey. Finding the appropriate locations and planting the sensors is simple; no creatures or animals leap from the shadows to hinder their progress. If things went over so easily for the others, then they’ll be on their way to Vasselheim by morning.

It’ll be fine. They’ll get some help from civilization’s last bastion and within twenty-four hours, they’ll have a plan for kicking this Chroma Conclave in its scaly ass. It’ll all be a wonderful distraction from everyone’s personal drama, so when they finally save the day and go home, they’ll all be one big happy fucking family again.

Wishful thinking, maybe, but there’s hope. Whatever’s going on, Vox Machina can handle it. They’ve handled everything else.

A little credence is lent to that hope when they all reconvene in the southeast and no one is in the mood to shout anymore. As expected, separating Vax and Grog off with their respective voices of reason seems to have calmed them down. Given a little more time to cool off, they could be downright friendly.

“How was it?” Vex quietly asks of Keyleth and Pike, hanging towards the back of the group.

“Oh, he’s grumpy as a tortoise, but he’s fine,” Keyleth says, directing a vaguely exasperated look at Vax’s back.

“Grog is… different,” Pike says. “There’s something strange about him. But he really just wants to help.”

Oh, good. Chalk a point up for the possession theory, then. “Well, good intentions, and all that,” Vex says dryly. “We may want to keep an eye out.”

“And Percy?” Keyleth asks.

Vex heaves a sigh. “Be gentle,” is all she says.

Keyleth nods with a gleam of determination in her eye. She moves forward and hooks her arm through Percy’s, leaning in to start conversation.

“We’re getting into some serious shit,” Pike says, taking Vex by surprise. “We gotta make a deal to stay positive. I’ve rocked the boat with Serenrae once already, I need to prove that we’re still worth her help.”

“Oh, darling,” Vex says. “We’re just barely holding ourselves together, pleasing a goddess is a bit of a tall order.”

Pike just smiles. “Even the littlest people can fill the tallest of orders.”

She barks out a laugh. “Right. Fine, alright, we’ll do it your way. If the boys get rowdy again, I’ll just shoot them with positivity arrows.”

“That’s the spirit.”

Positivity arrows. Maybe she’ll get Percy on that before they leave.


End file.
